I keep thinking surely I've reached bottom. I'm tired. I'm soul sore. I'm empty. But turns out, the trench is much deeper and darker than my mind dared ever imagine. I'm asylum silly, me and the Universe laughing at the impossibility of my life.
In the dark, in the silence, there's an all too familiar chorus of voices in my head willing me to believe...you're not good enough, you're a failure and a fool, you're not worthy, you're not strong, you never have been...and then every mistake of my past plays out in technicolor for my shame to bear witness.
Why.
Never whisper why to the wind, because she will answer you with indifference, hardship and a big old helping of why not? She will whip you like a ratty flag tethered to the pole in high winds. Listen, at some point you have to surrender to the absurdity, stop struggling against the circumstances and be cool, or living quicksand will pull you under.
Staying cool, doesn't make the fire any easier to tolerate, but for now it's keeping it from consuming me.
In the dark, in the silence, there's an all too familiar chorus of voices in my head willing me to believe...you're not good enough, you're a failure and a fool, you're not worthy, you're not strong, you never have been...and then every mistake of my past plays out in technicolor for my shame to bear witness.
Why.
Never whisper why to the wind, because she will answer you with indifference, hardship and a big old helping of why not? She will whip you like a ratty flag tethered to the pole in high winds. Listen, at some point you have to surrender to the absurdity, stop struggling against the circumstances and be cool, or living quicksand will pull you under.
Staying cool, doesn't make the fire any easier to tolerate, but for now it's keeping it from consuming me.
