And so you open me up and expose me for who I am. In front of you, my shame overwhelms me. I don't know how to put into words or explain this inner turmoil. I know it feels like a tornado swirling inside of me and yet I cannot describe in so many words how much the despair is tearing me apart. Not in front of you. I'm too ashamed, too embarrassed by my neediness, my weakness, my lack of will power.
It seems so easy. You give me a formula. Just follow the logical equation. One plus one is two. Two plus two is four. For me, one plus one doesn't add up. It doesn't make sense. The logic escapes me. I'm grappling with words like a person with dyslexia. It is upside down and inside out. I'm trying so hard and it still doesn't make sense.
Today I'm just tired. I'm exhausted, as if I have just returned from battle. In a way, I have. The battle for sanity is endless, relentless. Do I need to acquiesce that the medication is doing nothing to ease this emptiness, this sadness, this lack of passion? Does it do anything else besides keep the terrors of my mind at bay?
It's so hard to get out of bed each morning. The heaviness and the dread is insurmountable. The horror grips me in its clutches. It's all I can do to breathe, to pull myself away from bed, to get into the shower and dress myself. My mind extremely fragile, and I am walking around as if on egg shells, so afraid some part of me will break and it inevitably does at one point. I lose the battle, I always do. It's only a matter of time. only a matter of time before my efforts are reduced to an inconsequential exercise in futility.
So why try?
Why don't I lie down here and die?