This bed is an island in the middle of these four walls. As soon as my foot touches the floor, I'll drown. I'll suffocate in the anxiety and uncertainty and loneliness. There's no lighthouse to guide me home. There's no rescue boats coming to save me. I'm stranded with pillows and blankets and the thoughts that keep me awake at night.
I could learn how to swim. I could learn how to float away from all of this. But my tired body aches. My bones are heavy and I find it hard to remind myself to breathe some times. There is no quick fix. Despite what people say, I know I won't ever wake up and feel completely satisfied with my life. I know I can do better. I can be better.
So I guess that just means I'm not trying hard enough. Or I'm trying too hard. I don't know which it is. I don't really know much at all honestly; there's so many questions and I don't have any of the answers.
Tonight, he asked me "What happened to you? You were so happy and living the life you wanted and now you're kind of scaring me. What happened?"
And that's the thing, I don't know.
I don't know what happened.
I don't know what changed.
I don't know anything.
All I can think is I want to go home but I don't know where that is. I'm trying to find some peace and I'm looking in all the wrong places. It's like a never ending game of hide and seek but I don't know what I'm looking for or if I'll ever actually find it.
So I don't know what to do.
I just don't know.
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