When I get out of bed I don’t think. Any thoughts that aren’t directly related to what I have to do are pushed away. I separate the two halves of my brain, emotion over there, busyness here. I IGNORE my own self, shut it up, close the door, brush it under the carpet. I can’t afford to give time to my thoughts of ‘how am I going to get through today’ or ‘so I woke up again unfortunately’ or any of those destructive, self harming sonnets my head has to expound upon. I wake up every morning with a profound sadness. I want to disappear and when it’s at its worst, when the hold on me is so strong all I can do is become a smaller version of myself… Then, I shrink. And I resist. It’s a physical burden, chaining my concrete feet to the floor. I move but it’s slow and it’s difficult and it’s laborious. Each shuffling step I take is holding me back, weak legs. My body is weighed down. No freedom of movement, slow and steady but still, movement of some kind. I move because I have to, I have stuff to get done for other people, I can’t let them down. They need me. And yet. I don’t want to be here.  My every ignored thought takes me down those other roads, where there is peace and no more pain. Where I don’t have to do anything or be anything or have anything or want anything. Where I’m not here, and I’m not sad anymore. 

I look forward to the day I don’t mourn my own self. Because this is no life at all 

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