she’s calling me.

I feel okay today, but by now I am smart enough not to trust it. What goes up must come down. Hard. Last day of school. I am so excited for next year, but I am worried to be excited for anything how- madness does not take such joys into consideration. You are at her mercy, and she has none. If I were religious, would this all be more or less complicated? Sometimes I wonder if god is punishing me- perhaps because I don’t capitalize the “g”. God, is that better? I don’t know if I believe in god. I believe in a higher power, a great spirit, etc, but now, I wonder, is that all just madness too? Is the part of our minds that allow us to believe such things simply the madness in us all? Looking back, the happenings that I took for spiritual awakenings were more likely manic episodes. The elation, the grandeur, the belief that I was one with trees, nature, all beings- could it be true? The intensity of my internal experiences is so overwhelming that anything can seem true. In November, for an evening, I convinced myself that I did not exist, that nothing and no one existed, that it was all a dream. Hmm. That, as far as we know, isn’t true.  When I’m thinking that we’re not real, I’m thinking it’s okay to explore how real we are, i.e slice open arms, etc. Which could evolve into jumping off bridges, buildings, just to test it out. That was where my thoughts went today. Sure, everyone has passing thoughts of “Oh, I could die doing that”, but this is different, because it’s more like storing a good idea for later, rather than just pondering. It does mask itself as pondering though. She will trick you into thinking you are well. I feel fine right now, but I know that there is still something wrong. It’s just under the surface. It is such a strange feeling! I have these impulses to destroy my immediate surroundings, whether it be punching a computer screen or kicking a garbage can down. I can control them, but where are they coming from? Why are they coming at all? And how long will I be able to control them? I wrote a bit about this earlier, in my post Sanity. Freedom will come in surrendering to whatever is rumbling inside. Striving for a healthy mind and disposition seems stifling. Why not burst forth in creative plentitude until they call for the straight jacket? Why not stand up and start screaming right now? Why not?! Or singing, dancing. The times I have felt great gratitude for life, I wanted to run outside and share my joy with the world, and had I done so, people would have thought me more insane than when I am sitting on the streetcar, slumped, face drained of life. We accept death more than we accept living. Madness looks and feels like freedom, but it is death. I must have faith in this. I am free to believe anything I want, and I must believe in beliefs that are good for me. I cannot listen to her. I cannot listen to the dark part.

I just bit my arm. The pain was rather intolerable. When I am in one of those states, I can go much harder and much longer. The skin is turning red. I can feel the blood rushing. I suppose I can’t be well.

15 minutes and I will leave, for end of term interviews. Oy vey. I am too fragile for this. For many things.

Something is trying to kill me. I am trying to kill me. I do not remember what life was like without this. I do not consider it life. It was a fantasy. I do not consider this life either. It is a warped form of hell, with brief intervals of sunlight and spring rain. The steam from the rain cooks me further. I must succumb to the fire and rise again, or merely, succumb to the fire. It’s my choice, though much of the time, it doesn’t feel like it.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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