underwater (breaching). A pause in the drowning.
It’s been awhile. Both here and digitally and wherever else I write.
I slept most of yesterday. A good chunk of today as well. Tomorrow no work; thank God.
I got kicked in the arm Friday morning and this hematoma looking thing appeared on my left forearm. Swelling has gone down but it is still tender.
Spent too much time watching mind numbing YouTube crap last two days. My brain feels frustrated and angry and lonely.
i feel lonely.
i want to cry but cannot.
i want to… i don’t know; feel different than this. I don’t know how. Or maybe i do.
i am not enjoying work anymore. I am only kind of enjoying mma camp. Well… i am enjoying it. i don’t like that i almost broke my arm. I’ve been binge eating. Overspending on McDonald’s Stroopwaffel McFlurries. I’ve probably eaten close to 20 or more this past month. Maybe more.
i keep thinking of [redacted].
there is a girl in mma class im scared to talk to because she is pretty and i am attracted to her.
i feel so alone.
so very alone.
i am angry and afraid and resentful; i am lonely; bitter; dejected; ashamed; forgotten; evil. Gangrenous; infected; impure; irredeemable; a cockroach; guilty; glossed over; not even worthy of a footnote.
Forgettable. Forgettable.
Rotted; decaying; doomed; denied.
Not worthy; never worthy. Gross.
A germ. A stain. Grime. Something to be removed; to be sanitized; cleaned; cleansed.
Unworthy. Unchosen. Un… you name it.
And the sick part it’s not by others, it’s by myself.
It’s me labeling myself all these things.
It’s me that believes all these cruel things about myself.
It’s me with the label gun. It’s me being the cruel one.
It’s me.
It’s always been me.
To think the world thinks so much of me as to enact such wrathfulness is my own hubris.
The world does not care; it is indifferent to me.
The good and the bad.
It is me enacting such a cruel torture; building a linguistic prison of self defeat, sabotage, abasement.
And why?
What does it bring me?
Nothing. Suffering. It brings me to my knees. To the ground. It chains me to the ocean floor; with enough length to see the surface but never enough to grasp a breath of fresh air.
Or well, not until recently. Right now; writing this now my head has just popped above the surface.
A deep breath. A sigh of relief. Tears come to my eyes.
i do not know for how much longer i will allow myself to breathe. But it feels nice. a respite. a calmness. a clarity. i know not for long but for now.
Thank God. Thank you God. Thank you me or you or whoever. Thank whoever will let it last one second more. One moment.
The first breath in what feels like a week. A month? A year? A long time; that is for sure.
Maybe i can cut this chain while i have the air to breathe.
I can feel it pulling again.