| In nine hours I have to be in the auditorium preparing myself for another happy, fun-filled day of rehearsing for a musical I couldn't give a shit about. Or, at least, that's the way I feel at the moment. Something's happening to me. I don't know what it is or how to explain it. All I know is this perpetual fear that every second I'm becoming more and more lost... and I know if I don't snap out of it soon, I'm going to lose myself entirely. I don't want to be sad. I'm sick of being sad. But somehow sad is the only emotion I can conjure at the moment. I've exhausted everything else. You can only play happy for so long, and even enraged wears thin after a time. I had a good day today. I swam with my best friend at the YMCA. We finished the pain in the ass part of a major project for a very important class. I didn't fight with my sister, and my face isn't a painful thing to look at today. And yet the only thing calming my restless soul is the lamplight out of the corner of my eye. I feel like throwing my head into my hands and bursting into helpless, childish tears. I want to sleep. Wouldn't that be easier? I think it'd be best to just stop thinking about things and get some rest... but somehow the idea appalls me. In consciousness I can keep track of my thoughts. I can stop them from taking me too far into things too painful to think about, and I can focus on getting to the center of what is paining me so. But when I slip into my dream world, I let the demons in. My imagination can run wild and my mind goes with it, opening all of the most painful wounds of my past for further prodding and torturing. I don't think I could deal with that. Not tonight. Sometimes I wonder how somebody as crazy as I could lead a normal life. But then... well, I do it, don't I? I go through the motions and complete the menial tasks... when all I really want to do is drive off the nearest bridge. Not to say that I'm suicidal. I'm not. I'm just tired. So very, very tired. |