I hate crying. I've done so much of it in my life, and I'm tired of it. Wah, wah, wah. Blubbery and snotty and what good does it actually do? Lessen stress for a little while, maybe, but it also makes my face all blotchy and shiny and my eyes red (though the red really sets off the green and they look all sparkly).
At any rate, here I am again, thinking about writing something but not having much to say. Medication has stolen my soul. I'm a robot without a care. Or with many cares but no feeling about the cares. Which makes the crying all the funnier-- I feel completely dead inside, where are the cryings coming from? This trade off really sucks. I can "maintain stability" (sort of) but I have no link to the world in a meaningful way. It's all mundane. I don't believe in god anymore. I don't feel the beauty of a lovely day inside of my body, exploding into a bright bright understanding of EVERYTHING. Where is that love of all, love of the smallest, seeing everything in an interconnected web of beauty?
It's gone.
The only way to retrieve it is to stop taking medications. At which point I will probably have to go live in the woods and be a crazy lady, because I can't live in "normal" society the way I am without medication. Too much noise and chaos and people everywhere! So, for the sake of the children I love and for the other people that seem to care if I am around, I kill who I really am inside and walk around with no connection to anything. It's suicide without the body death. Soul suicide.
No comments:
Post a Comment