(Stay Busy)
You're doing good when there is something to keep you distracted. The truth is still there though, that dark reality looming in your peripherals, haunting you anytime you have down time. There's nothing you can do about it. Facing it is a good step but you're vulnerable and weak, trying to act strong and be different from who you have been, the person that wrought such chaos. Your fear of letting has controlled you long enough, let the power of it all wash over you. Drift in the sea of sorrows you desperately tried to navigate and battle. You have lost your way, lost yourself, and lost the one you didn't want to lose most of all. But what's the point? You have nothing to show for all your hard work, and all of your mistakes. Does anyone really care that you failed? Does anyone even notice how hard you attempted to fix things? Does anyone even care at all? What do you care about? You don't know, do you. You're a shell of man. You broke open and all that you were leaked out, swallowed by an endless ocean. You are as a ship though. You need to patch your hull, put up the sail, and move on from that wretched coast. The storm can only follow so far before it will taper and disperse. Then, when its calmer, you can mend the rest of the ship. Chart a new course or simply enjoy the ride. It's a small crew for now and it will be a hard recovery but it's that or drown. You're too damn stubborn to do that so you need to set sail once more. Head for a new horizon. Steer clear of the sirens call. Fish and explore. In those moments, you will find the new person you have become, even if you may look the same. All of this hard work though will make you stronger, and no one argues against being stronger. Your body is resilient yet your mind is weak, straining to break the spell put upon you, undo the curse that has ravaged your life so. It may be wise to chart a course to someone who can lift your spirits, bless you anew, harbor you while you make repairs. Do not linger though. This time, we keep moving, searching for that piece that will make us whole once more. This is only the beginning so brace yourself and prepare for more stormy days and broken sails.
Problem is, you see her, everywhere. Places, vehicles, foods, events, sights, smells, all there reminding you of your failures and loss. That this is the world you live in, alone and rejected, unwanted and unloved. You're hanging by a thread, and any one thing can cut it, dropping you right back into the dark maw that will swallow you once more, slipping right back into that familiar black that crushes and defeats you. This is going to be like pulling yourself out of a pit full of snakes with only a shoelace. Each misstep followed by a stinging bite of pain, the venom poisoning your body and mind once more. No antidote either, you just have to survive this ordeal. No one will pull you out and she isn't coming back. The family that took you in quickly abandoned you, the friends involved disappeared or did not favor you. You set the world on fire around you but while everyone else ran, you stayed, waiting to see if anyone would save you or stay. You only taste ashes now, the sky smokey and grey while the earth lay blackened and dead. You killed the world around you, you psychopath. You weren't important enough to save and too crazy to make the effort. That hate fueled fire you threw about swallowed up everything, including your life, your existence.
Now, you face the ruined world, devoid of help and love, and you wonder "What's the point?" "Why me?"
This time, we end it. This time, we break the cycle we seem so intent on repeating. Always winning someone over then flipping the "batshitcrazy" switch. Why can't you just be normal, dammit? We could've already been way passed this point, far into a life that so many take for granted. Why is your path always full of jagged glass that you must crawl through?
Just keep busy. It's the only option you have. Don't let your guard down but don't forget to let out your feelings. It does us no good bottling them up. We just seem cold and crazy, even if we are
You're doing good when there is something to keep you distracted. The truth is still there though, that dark reality looming in your peripherals, haunting you anytime you have down time. There's nothing you can do about it. Facing it is a good step but you're vulnerable and weak, trying to act strong and be different from who you have been, the person that wrought such chaos. Your fear of letting has controlled you long enough, let the power of it all wash over you. Drift in the sea of sorrows you desperately tried to navigate and battle. You have lost your way, lost yourself, and lost the one you didn't want to lose most of all. But what's the point? You have nothing to show for all your hard work, and all of your mistakes. Does anyone really care that you failed? Does anyone even notice how hard you attempted to fix things? Does anyone even care at all? What do you care about? You don't know, do you. You're a shell of man. You broke open and all that you were leaked out, swallowed by an endless ocean. You are as a ship though. You need to patch your hull, put up the sail, and move on from that wretched coast. The storm can only follow so far before it will taper and disperse. Then, when its calmer, you can mend the rest of the ship. Chart a new course or simply enjoy the ride. It's a small crew for now and it will be a hard recovery but it's that or drown. You're too damn stubborn to do that so you need to set sail once more. Head for a new horizon. Steer clear of the sirens call. Fish and explore. In those moments, you will find the new person you have become, even if you may look the same. All of this hard work though will make you stronger, and no one argues against being stronger. Your body is resilient yet your mind is weak, straining to break the spell put upon you, undo the curse that has ravaged your life so. It may be wise to chart a course to someone who can lift your spirits, bless you anew, harbor you while you make repairs. Do not linger though. This time, we keep moving, searching for that piece that will make us whole once more. This is only the beginning so brace yourself and prepare for more stormy days and broken sails.
Problem is, you see her, everywhere. Places, vehicles, foods, events, sights, smells, all there reminding you of your failures and loss. That this is the world you live in, alone and rejected, unwanted and unloved. You're hanging by a thread, and any one thing can cut it, dropping you right back into the dark maw that will swallow you once more, slipping right back into that familiar black that crushes and defeats you. This is going to be like pulling yourself out of a pit full of snakes with only a shoelace. Each misstep followed by a stinging bite of pain, the venom poisoning your body and mind once more. No antidote either, you just have to survive this ordeal. No one will pull you out and she isn't coming back. The family that took you in quickly abandoned you, the friends involved disappeared or did not favor you. You set the world on fire around you but while everyone else ran, you stayed, waiting to see if anyone would save you or stay. You only taste ashes now, the sky smokey and grey while the earth lay blackened and dead. You killed the world around you, you psychopath. You weren't important enough to save and too crazy to make the effort. That hate fueled fire you threw about swallowed up everything, including your life, your existence.
Now, you face the ruined world, devoid of help and love, and you wonder "What's the point?" "Why me?"
This time, we end it. This time, we break the cycle we seem so intent on repeating. Always winning someone over then flipping the "batshitcrazy" switch. Why can't you just be normal, dammit? We could've already been way passed this point, far into a life that so many take for granted. Why is your path always full of jagged glass that you must crawl through?
Just keep busy. It's the only option you have. Don't let your guard down but don't forget to let out your feelings. It does us no good bottling them up. We just seem cold and crazy, even if we are