This was something I wrote not too long ago, I know it's not that great but I'm trying to get into writing again. Sorry that this is long 😳
I lay in bed at night wasting my imagination on scenarios that do nothing but steal my happiness.
I stare into the darkness questioning my worth, my sanity and my existence.
The night has come to know more of my secrets than any living being ever could.
When morning comes I feel like I'm on auto-pilot, like I'm not present. I live by a routine to have a sense of control over something, anything.
I dedicate countless hours to "what ifs" and dreams that may never come to fruition, which only makes me feel like they're impossible.
When the darkness takes hold of me, I feel the need to run, to escape. My head spins, feel faint. Feel like I'll burst in to tears, God, don't cry, don't let anyone see.
Some days the darkness fails in its efforts, others it wins and makes me feel like I'll never overcome it.
Leaving the house is always a struggle. One day I could savour every breath of fresh air and drink every little detail of my surroundings. Others, I want to flee to what I deem as my sanctuary, or my prison.
It's funny; I want to get away and yet, this is all I know.
I've always dreamed, yearned for adventure, for happiness, but yet I'm too afraid.
Too afraid of the risks, of the dangers, of breaking down, of people not understanding, of letting myself down.
Sometimes I think I'm better off not trying, of letting the darkness seep into my mind and take over completely, god knows it has its moments.
Some days I can't get out of bed, can't find the strength nor the courage get up and try.
I want to do things, yet I'm too afraid which then makes me depressed because I'm afraid.
A toxic cycle, I can't seem to escape.
Days turn into months, and when the leaves change colour, I realize that another year of my life has passed me by.
I want to live, not just exist.