This war is noise.

This year is death.
September 9, 2014, 1:26 am
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In not even a month from my last post, so many more famous people have died.

The fact that reality is still changing so much as this year has just been drowned out by the death of so many, untimely or otherwise, seems to be having an affect on me.

I don’t know whether it is specifically because my Nanny died in march, or whether it truly has been a year where there have been so many events of death, that it feels that way.

I have been pretty down the past while, as again another change in life has happened. My mum had her surgery and is now adjusting to a new way of life, and we are adjusting to that around her.

I’m not physically coping, as my pain has increased to often an unbearable degree, and emotionally I’m definitely not coping at all.

I see the edges of the dark in my mind when I think.

I know despair sits looking back at me when I have these internal monologues constantly radiating while my mind is not occupied by something else.

I have mini breakdowns, that I can contain, but I even seen it in my counsellors eyes on Friday.

I could tell she said “and you will be okay” just to make sure I said it back out loud.

I seen her see the dark in my eyes.

When it gives you the choice that you can get out if its really what you want, if you really can’t do it any more.

It’s only edges though, I pull myself back from it, though its always willing to creep back in and obscure your vision if you let it.

Nothing good can come from me feeling this way either though. I am constantly drained and in agony. My sleep is shot. And when I finally do sleep, I don’t want to wake up.

I’m normal, pain free and actually free when I’m asleep.

I have possibilities again.

I feel like I’m trapped right now into running myself into the ground trying to cope.

And to top it all off, I have the questionnaire to finish and gather my letters for to send it hopefully tomorrow.

I hate having to notate everything that’s wrong with me. Going into all the details of how I could have amounted to something if all this wasn’t a factor.

To them, I’m just a list of issues they need to get 15 marks from.

Every year. You’d think after the first few they’d start spacing it out, give me some peace, quit reminding me that I’m not getting better, in fact getting worse, and that I have nothing to look forward to currently. I feel hopeless.

Which at 25 is quite the life sentence.

I don’t know how to do this any more. I don’t feel remotely strong enough.

I’m so afraid.