Post-Release Reflections

What am I supposed to do with all these fragments in my head, bouncing around with nowhere to go? Why has my brain decided to turn on me, just when I was thinking maybe we could be friends again? Why am I even writing this, when there is no one here to read it?

Mental illness is fucked.

Up, down, and around we go, in a never-ending cycle of highs and lows. Just when you thought it was good, it was bad. Just when you thought you were happy, you were sad.

This feeling I have right now, it’s hard to explain. It’s kind of like when you cut your toenails too short. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but it doesn’t feel good either. Does that make sense? Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is my nails are too fucking short.

I want to do everything and nothing at all. I want to make plans just to cancel them. I want to feel feelings and turn them off as I please. I want to read books and draw pictures and cook beautiful food. I want to watch endless TV and eat junk and sleep all day long. I want to talk, but it’s hard to find the words.

Some people don’t like to listen anyway.

I wonder what you would think, if you could see inside my brain. I wonder what yours looks like, too. Maybe we could swap sometime. I could see what you see, and maybe then I could see it for myself.

They say to get better you need the right tools. But how do you know what’s right and what’s not? What if my tools are all blunt? And what is “better” anyway? Don’t they know that finding the right tool for the job is much harder than it sounds — what works one minute won’t work the next. Keep at it, they say. Be present, mindful. But we all know things are easily said. Or maybe we’re just too clever for their toolkit.

It seems like what used to be normal, is now upside down. It’s seems like a cycle that will never end, a ride I can’t get off, even when it’s not fun anymore. All I want is control, but it’s far out of reach. The balance is tenuous, and completely exhausting.

Sometimes I wish the ride would slow down, so I could catch up. Sometimes I wish I could be different, without having to change. Sometimes, I just wish for quiet. Quiet time to think my thoughts.

The good ones, I mean.

For now I try to block the noise, to fill the gaps, to feel without judging. To let the words come out, even if they don’t make much sense to anyone but me. To accept what is and what isn’t, and just enjoy the fucking ride.