jul 26

7/26

i feel as though i am floating in a cocoon, lately. i am not crying myself to sleep very often; i am not crouched shaking in the corner of my living room floor. i am flat, two-dimensional; i am incapable of responding to depth. feel like a tomb; i am all of these things. it is as though my skin is a cloak. i draw it closer around myself, shielding and flattening: a membrane, a filter. i draw it closer: my shoulders hunched, jaw tightening. my flesh is soft and supple -- my skin still mostly smooth -- and i am congealing, hardening, crusting into an exoskeleton, my head bowed under its carapace. hands and mouths on me: i feel shapes tracing the contours of a shell.

--

it is getting worse, again, the dysphoria, the suffocation; i have not yet fallen off the ledge again, i am still teetering, rocking back and forth. i feel the familiar downward slide and i know it's going to get worse, again, and i don't know what to do; i am walkign the emotional tightrope so tightly that i am physically off-balance at times. i shove my friends away when they want to be with me and then i miss them when they aren't; i have never figured out how to not do this.

it's like i have this innate ability to act in such a way tailored to every person in my life -- how exactly should i act to subtlely and wholly drive everyone away.

"i drink, and i drink; i confess my sins to the internet." - me circa early 2010; story of my life.