its 2:22 p.m. and my hair is still a mess. My eyes are still crusted, and the bags underneath them never felt so heavy. I haven't left the bed in a while.
I cant.
I cant eat a piece of bread without warning sirens piercing my heart
I cant feel my arms without the horrible after-taste of embarrassment
I cant stand alone, so I resort to a pair of imperfect hands, and I don't leave.
I want to slowly waste away, and I couldn't explain exactly why..but it sounds real nice sometimes.
I want to etch-a-sketch my brain
scramble it up with a side of insane
Because that's what I feel I am.
Crazy. Going up and down on a Roller Coaster that never ends. I cant escape it, I cant escape anything.
I'm terrified of myself.
I'm terrified that I cant see my bones
I'm terrified that I WANT to see my bones
That sharp objects don't frighten me
and that I'm going to end up like my mom
Its been a month since I've gone to my classes at college now, possibly longer.
I've gotten emails from the teachers asking where I am and that they are concerned for me.
I refuse to use my "illness" as an excuse.
But I have no other explanation.
And I dread the day that I have to tell my children
"the reason mommy didn't complete college was because she was just too sad
to even leave her bed".
Pathetic.
I am pathetic.
