― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Gentle Spirit

Mary Oliver

How do I make someone understand

just how much I have to fight everyday?

That I'm perpetually at war with my brain

that I don't let myself lean on anyone but myself

even if it makes the fire harder to extinguish

but isn't that what I really want?

To burn and burn

and burn.

The urge to just destroy myself. To cut off everything. To go radio silent on everyone because my brain is absolutely convinced I'll be best off alone, locked in a tiny little box.

Why can't I just have a moment to breathe? To actually enjoy my bit of happiness I get here and there.

— Fernando Pessoa, from “The Book of Disquiet.”

I feel numb, I don't want to think about anything. It's too much. I didn't want to wake up today. I have a lot to take care of and think about but I just don't have it in me to tend to anything.

I feel numb.

How little there is to listen when you stop.

You are just a fragment of my imagination

it feels insulting to cry out loud

when some have loved and lost you

and I've only lost.

i can’t see myself old, i just see myself disappearing across the years.

It's so much easier to push people away. I don't want to feel anything. I want to turn off my emotions and self destruct. I refuse to feel grief or any strong emotion that I just don't want to feel. I'd rather not think about any of those emotions and just keep trying to destroy myself. I can't cope with real life. I'd rather make them hate me. My brain is telling me to push them away. And I can't stop it.

i feel so alone all the goddamn time.