LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
2014-07-29 00:51:53 (UTC)

I've Been Trying To Sleep

"Don't Let Them See You Cry" by Manchester Orchestra

July 29, 2014 Tuesday 1:52 AM

I've been trying to sleep for the past half an hour. Not too long, I know. It's hard. Not impossible, but hard.

I tried meditating (its something I've wanted to do for a long time) today and something funny happened. I was imagining a buoy going up and down in the ocean in time with my breathing, and behind that... I heard creepy noises. Creepy fucking noises. I don't know, I had to stop though. Meditation is really fucking hard. How in the hell am I supposed to calm these thoughts?

Something that has been helping me fall asleep is a podcast called Welcome To Nightvale. I could sleep without it, but I always dread that half hour to an hour (or more, if it's bad, but it rarely is) of lying in bed with nothing but my own mind.

Its not that I'm unhappy. I just feel numb. My thoughts are full of anxiety and terrible things.

It doesn't help that I like things that scare me. I've finished watching Wilfred, which was a comedy but is creepy in the way that the main character never knows if what is happening is real or not. I'm watching Hemlock Grove, which is like American Horror Story with how gory it is. And this podcast, Welcome to Nightvale...

Well, it's the creepiest of all that shit. It's not supposed to scare you the way horror movies try to, but it gives me an incredibly uneasy feeling. It's a fake radio show about a desert town and while the reporter talks about things as if they are normal, they really aren't.

He talked about how the town built a stadium only to be used once a year - November 10. On that day, all the mysterious hooded figures would gather. No one is supposed to talk about those figures, nor are they supposed to approach them.

It's really good.

I was listening to it and... The words felt so large in my head. Very large. I know I have an infinite amount of "space" in there, but it was like the words could barely fit. They were purple, I think. Maybe not. The background was white.

I am lost to the world. I dropped of the face of the planet. I stopped talking to pretty much everyone and I started hanging around my house doing nothing productive.

I am trying to support myself during this lull and I am waiting to be pulled back into happiness again.

This happened two months ago. I got really depressed. I came back. I don't know if I'm getting depressed, but I am so numb and so apathetic (those words don't mean the same thing, do they? No. Not quite. Although in this situation, they might).

I saw stuff on the news, today. Kids in Israel, dead on a holy day. They were playing outside. It hurts me but not nearly as much as it would normally and I really, REALLY wanted to see their dead bodies.

I am fucking morbid. Really fucking morbid.

I haven't had the urge to cut myself in quite awhile. Maybe because I really do feel nothing. I'd like to feel things again. Feelings really fucking suck but I never do anything without them. I'm not motivated to do art and I have to be... I have to be. If I can't do this now, when will i ever...?


The anxiety is taking over. I should try and sleep again. I should stop thinking about my future.

Stop thinking about my nightmares. How they always have water in them... The water is getting deeper.

Last night it was an ocean. I got lost. I lived in a new town and took a bus to school but I got off on the wrong stop. The stop was a hotel sticking out of the deep ocean a little ways off the coast of wherever I lived.

I had no way home. I saw a boy and his dad walking by the water on a terrible dock. Half the dock had huge holes in it. I had to follow around the hotel owner and she promised to take me home after she finished with her gravel. Then, I watched her as she stuck a shovel in the ocean, dug up gravel, and threw it right back into the water.

I almost fell into one of the holes and somehow I knew if I did, I would've died.

It doesn't sound nightmare-ish. I should've just said bad dream. But all my dreams have two things in common; the water and the terrible feelings they leave me with, like something is after me, like something is very, very wrong.

Daxton (my cousin) told me that the water in my dream indicates I am a deep thinker. I take that as legitimate because I looked it up on a dream interpretation site and he's Wiccan, so he does a lot of dream studying, I guess.

I need to make an entry about Daxton. He said, "I guess insanity runs in the family" when I told him how my sister got the scars on the sides of her face (she cut herself really bad on the face when she had a psychotic episode in October. Maybe I shouldn't say break. She hasn't had any incidents besides that one, not ever so I think it was a one time thing caused by a mixture of alcohol and Prozac).

He says that because he struggles with depression and he hallucinates (although he really prefers calling it visionary psychosis).

Possibly also because pretty much everyone in my family has issues.

My dad, anxiety and depression when he was younger. My mom, anxiety and depression all her life. My sister has that plus ADD, I have depression, GAD, and bipolar disorder (I was gonna say BPD but that actually stands for borderline personality disorder, a lot of people make that mistake).

My grandma had depression. My aunt was... very troubled. She was maybe also bipolar with other issues. She even ran away from home and was in foster care for awhile.

Daxton's close family was really bad, though. I mean, they all (except for his dad, to my knowledge) tried killing themselves in different ways. Daxton doesn't live with his dad, he lives with our religious uncle.

So yeah.. I have a lot to talk about when it comes to him. I felt like I could relate so much to him, seeing as how we're the same age, he's easy to talk to, and we have a lot in common.

Okay... Bye. I might be gone for like a week. I might not talk to anyone for awhile. That's okay. I'm just trying to deal. I think the real issue is that I am constantly in a state of numbed panic and I don't know what to do.

The words are large in my head. My fears are larger. There is only darkness in my brain right now, but the comforting kind that protects you from being seen. Not the kind that swallows you whole.


GOOD THINGS THAT DAXTON SAID TO ME:

(Just daxton because I don't think anyone else in person has said anything real nice to me lately, except for the cute train guy who said I am really good at drawing)

-he said I'm skinny, that's cool, even though I'm fat as hELL.

- he also said when I told him that, yeah, I have a crush to be safe. Didn't want me getting my heart broken. No one has ever said that sweet shit to me before. That's awesome.

Thanks, Dax, if you ever read this (even though I'm fairly positive you won't). Like I said, nobody says nice stuff like that to me in person. Please be okay.


Now I'm gonna go sleep. My anxiety is taking me over, even if I can't feel a damn thing. I know it is. I am watching it do this. I'm watching as I break my promises to keep in touch with the people I love. I'm watching as I stop doing things I like because what's the point? I'm watching as I do nothing to care for myself everyday and spend all time I have trying to keep my mind busy without actually doing anything.

I'm giving up. I really have no idea how to stop myself from doing this. I'm NOT DEPRESSED, I swear. Or maybe I am and because of this lack of feeling, I just don't know it.

Goodnight. Maybe if you could spare the time, you could see if you know what's wrong with me. I ask this of you even though I know you're probably wrong (no offense).

(Here in the darkness, I know myself)

Shut up, brain, with your song lyrics that accurately portray my thoughts.


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