72 Hours In…

It’s been three days. 14844-blue-water-drops-on-a-dark-leaf-2560x1600-digital-art-wallpaper

I’m in a new state, a new home, a new territory, and new surroundings. A new adventure is about to begin – or already has – and I have NO fucking idea how this will end up. My goal; to be a better person, healthy, genuinely better… because who I am now is killing me.

I’m not as scared as I thought I would be. I’m not struggling as bad as I thought I would. But, I have a side of me that takes over, kind of like an autopilot mode. There’s a side of me that takes over and keeps everything under the surface. It will explode one day, I know this.

The nightmares lately are almost too much. I wake up sweating and crying. I wake up panicking and wanting to claw my way out of where ever I am. I wake up terrified and pissed off. I wake up and don’t ever want to go back to sleep, no matter how tired or delirious I am. For instance, today I have been unpacking boxes and trying to set up my new home since 3 am.

The people and the environment here is a culture shock. I have no idea what the fuck I am going to do, how I will be, what I will like, and not like.

I look at the backyard that is now mine, the living room, the kitchen, the environment that I now currently reside in, and I think about how I need to get healthy, how I am lucky to even be here – yet alive. I have put myself through so much physically, I could be a medical science experiment. How do I even function? How do I wake up every day and still am able to live like a regular human being? Of all the times I have tried to kill myself on purpose, I am shocked it never happened by accident.

Self indulgence, greed, pride… these are the things that drive – and inevitably – lead me to my demise. I own my faults. I don’t deny my wrong doings. I am who I am. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. And it doesn’t mean I don’t fully understand myself.

Not even I understand the dustiest corners of my mixed up soul…

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