What you'll never know is how
It feels to be afraid of yourself.
I will be the only one in the end
Something you'll never live is
Delusional paranoia against friends.
I know you don't know I can't control
I hope you never know how it
Feels to be prisoner inside your own mind.Because I'm ripping myself open
From the inside
But I've got no gutter to hold stuff
Everythings a mess.You'll never quite feel me on this
To feel like everyone is watching,
Silent judges, critical jurors weighing my value.I can not live like this much longer,
The truth is it's eating me and whatever
Whatever I have left is not enough to survive.You don't know how it feels to have to hide,
No surprise,
An empty life.If you've ever had that sickening feeling when you start to fall, that
gut wrenching, raw bright light that makes everything warmer then you
know what I mean. My disease, me, my Mind, it's like that.Sometimes, I can't control what I think. Sometimes I get lost in
dreams. Sometimes they seem more real than life. Sometimes I can't
leave my house for days. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever be able to
survive another day or how I've even made it this far.
It's a cloudy, grey day when you wake up and realize this is as bad as
it's been, ever.There is one ghost haunting me that talks to me and makes it ok. I
used to have more. I wish I could bring them home.
But it keeps spiraling out of control more and more every single
moment, I'm alive.
It's not become the pain it was, because I can handle that now.
But I fucking hate what I sacrificed in the process.My brain, my sustainer. It thinks like this, "I am out of water
bottles, I'll go to the store. But if I go to the store
people will see me, they will judge the things I buy. I shouldn't go
because I don't want to have that feeling. That pressure. The pressure
to integrate. Well I just won't drink water. I'll get some later, when
I'm not as nervous."The best way to describe it is to have you imagine yourself as a wire,
small but thick. I am the control, just the wire, not too hot or too
cold. But it kicks in and I am there, I start glowing and buzzing,
until the rod becomes so hot it is glowing white and the buzzing is so
loud and piercing that you can' hear. That feeling, the
uncomfortableness of being. It's sharp and biting. A needle, poised to
pierce your skin. Sickeningly unknown. It's Slick, red-hot. Over-
powering dread, like an assault victim. Terrified.
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