waning strength

It was a dark night last night.  I had to fill my moments with distractions.

It was too the point that I couldn’t write.  I was too overwhelmed with this negative energy.

Nothing could release it, and by the time I wanted to write, it was too much to express.

It felt like 7 years ago.

I’m sneaking in the kitchen, finding the sharpest knife.

It nicked my hip; I had slipped it in my waistband to hide it as I carried it to my bedroom.  

I lit my lavender candle as I do every night for bed. But instead of writing furiously, completely lost in the worlds in my mind, I drummed my pen to repetitive beats in my head, staring off into space.  Reflecting on my life, my stupidity, my obvious misunderstanding of the universe in general. The room grew heavy with the scent of lavender and sage… but it did nothing for me.

I took deep breaths, attempting to release the iron grip on my chest.  It brought tears my eyes instead.

Calm… don’t think… just calm…

I was desperate to run from the monsters in my closet.

This is the closest I’ve come to those bad habits of before.  I was at that point where there is no comfort, there is no hope.  The last piece of my heart ...shredded so easily.

What else can you do?  At this point I don’t care.

But... I know now... I’ve taken too much.

I’ve done too much.

I’ve allowed too much.

Now I’m drained.

I worry about what I might do… but what truly breaks my heart is there is no one there.

There’s never been anyone there.

No one strong enough to hold me.

God what I would give for someone strong enough to hold me…

But he doesn’t exist. 

All I can continue doing is pretending throughout the day, and hoping I’m exhausted enough by bed to not do anything stupid.

I thought I was past all this.

It's scary how quickly the dark can overtake the light.