Have to write this down quick, the words are already dripping away.
My arm is healing, but my skull is still bruised.
Always heard voices through subconcious phases '
[right before I fall asleep or right before I wake up], so realistic, it feels like actuality.
Like I'm half awake and someones whispering in my ear.
Or, in cases, saying something in another room. How to distinguish what's real and what's not?
Since "depression" started, the soul was divided into two. Any emotion, any psychological well-being was in one of the soul fragments, and it seemed to get sicker and sicker, until it felt like that part of the soul died. "Dead walking amoung the living," guess that's what they mean?
The other part, the physical well-being, and feeling life [as you can't help feeling life's physical challenges], and being alive as suddenly seemed to slip away. I'm being drained, my body feels like it's rotting.
It may be all in my mind.
But since the last episode, I've been seeing things. Slightly. I can't control my body as well, I follow my impulses to twitch and shake and shiver and follow the will of my muscles.
Lymph nodes behind my left ear swelled up, I wonder what my body's trying to isolate
. Have to start checking them regularly, seeing if they go away or not, before seeing a doctor. They're on the bone of my skull, does that mean a substance is trying to get into/attack my brain? I haven't really been feeling any feverish symptons or anything to tip off a hint of non-mental sickness.
Can't even do it right, can't even be a good little azn and sepukku.
Can't be cliche and find a gun to blast my head everywhere, can't slit my wrists fatally in a bathtub, can't find a place to hang from, can't find a long enough cord to slip into my evening soak in the tub as well.
Only thing that seems to save anybody is music.
Maybe I can restort to escapism. Oh, how I'd love to lose my sense of exsisting in this world. Fence off a little part in my mind full of fantasy and flowers and happiness and ecstacy, keep my concious mind hidden there. No more swirling things in my vision, no more random vision fails. No more reality?
Escaping reality is weak, but who really wants to bare it?
Reading a book, playing games, we all escape for a little bit, hopefully-each and/or every other day. But in the end, we return to this.
Skin, heat, cold.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Blink open and shut, lean back.
Do we surrender ourselves up to fate or chance?
Thank you, I'm not sure which user it was [I am terribly sorry for not memorizing your name D:], but thank you for suggesting the Underground Tour as a tourist plan in Seattle.
It was well worth it, and the tour guides were funny and interesting.
Have a nice weekend, Depression Tribe.