Where have I been? It had been the question I'd been asking myself for the last 7 days.
My soul had grown cold as ice but burned as I was dying to speak, to let all of my emotion out. I wanted to cry. I had no shame in it, but even at family funerals, I was never able to cry easily. The feeling of wanting to scream out my pain, but could only drink it away with a pill or cloud my mind with alcohol, niether combined, always seperated. It's been so hard to speak with a smile on my face when anyone who knew me could see past it and look me deep in the eye and see my pain.No matter how warm the blanket, or how comfy the pillow, I couldn't get the sleep I desired with pain, anguish, angst, bitterness, but all these were a front for the sadness and sorrow I felt. To lust but only to occupy my mind to make me feel happy when truthfully I was desecrated. Re-reading through my phone only to feel worse. I'd walked, paced, as my mind raced through everything I had put towards 5 years, only to be told I didn't make the cut, and that I probably never would. My heart started pumping and the rush had hit me, I felt like a knife had been stuck into my heart and my adrenaline was pumping from the overwhelming depression. I wasn't living anymore, I was a lifeless shell, moving and smiling like puppetter was moving my lips, arms, legs as the rest of me lay dormant inside hiding, closed up. Once you reach that point, you begin to look at life like a timer, just waiting until the sand runs out and just live each day like a moment passing me by. I was only stuck in standby.