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Mental Health VS The World

Life is hard regardless if you have a mental illness or not, people are constantly struggling to be happy, to remain positive, and to live the life to their idea of the 'fullest' as we are sucked in and trapped in this man-made society. But, living with a mental illness just makes everything that bit harder, as your views on everything all around you become dusty, blurred, and distorted.

I do try you know, to hold all my shit together before it either falls out my ass, or tumble loudly out of my face. I feel as though I am sinking to the bottom tier of the hourglass, falling, and getting trapped in the sand. The other night I fell through, standing on the cold grey grounds. It’s so fucking loud, so cold I can see my own breathe, and it’s so dark. Yet light enough that I can see all the horror around me, all my past, all the things that haunt me.

Keep inside yourself today, Charmaine, keep inside yourself. Pretend you are in a bubble; it’s only you inside, girl. Only you. Don’t let anything in. Concentrate on you and you only. Keep yourself protected from the stress and anxiety of work, let it all roll off your glossy bubble. You don’t hear it. You see it, but you don’t really hear it, don’t let it crawl into your veins, your bones, your mind, your heart.

Where I go, it’s dark. Yet my realities surroundings tell me its light, the sunshines. The snow on top of the peaks gleam from the snows rays, and I reminisce of the days snowboarding. How it just set me on fire, made me feel so fucking alive. Once. Nevertheless, I reminisce and I feel nothing but fear and sadness.

Fear of life and my raw burning emotions towards anything and everything.. Sadness for this world, and for myself, feeling like a lost cause, yet something possibly not being used properly. And I feel fucking angry. I feel angry at my pain, and I feel angry at the world. I hate everyone around me and the skin on the back of my neck crawls and shudders. I start to think of the people that misused me. Now, I see the trees. Something I love so dearly. But they mean nothing right now.

Everything has lost its meaning, its importance. Nothing fucking matters right now. Yet, if I could put myself in a certain place, or do a certain something to ride this out, I would in a second. I would be there, doing that thing, over and over again. But I just feel so goddamn trapped in me, and it’s lonely. Even when I had friends, friends that actually cared, it still felt lonely. Now when I have pushed all the ones that loved me away, it feels just the same.

Be happy, life is short, do some brain training. If only everyone knew just how god-damn-mother-fucking hard I try! Sometimes I don’t know why I try. Some days I think it’s because I don’t want to put my parents through that pain. How terrible of me. On bad days, I don’t think about them and I want to just disappear. Either completely isolated and alone, or not alive. Although, mostly I think about my thirst for life, the things that just ticked me into completion. The things or places in life that filled that spot so good. And I hold onto that. I am confused of what they are, it’s blurry.

My entire vision of the world, the people, myself, and everything is blurry. I try be the best person I can, yet I don’t know whom it is I am comparing to, how do I know if I am truly good? I think people are cruel. Mean. Vicious. Liars. Not all I am sure, but having just anyone in my life just hurts so just how long will I be alone for? The world is bad. When I look up at the sky, at all the stars, it makes me cry. How sad. We are one small planet amongst so many, yet we fight, kill, and torture each other, demolish our own. How disgusting we are. So animalistic, so cruel, so evil. The world is bad. So bad.

Sometimes I wonder why I get out of bed. Why I put on makeup to cover my bags, to put eyebrow pencil on, so I can have eyebrows that show. Why I spray my perfume. Why I even bother to run to catch the train so I'm not late for work. What is this all for? What kind of fucking life is this bullshit? I know it’s not a life I want. I can’t tell you what life I want, as I am still unsure. I'm not unsure that it’s a free life. Where? I don’t know. When? Soon I hope. All I know is that whatever fucking game I'm playing here, I'm getting bored of. I need to leave it soon, and try one last time to find ‘my kind of life’

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