Maybe the one I’m kidding is me


This is my fourth attempt to write a blog post and this time I am determined not to delete it and start all over.

My mind has been all over the place tonight. But in the last hour it feels as if a train has run over my brain. Like, flattened it to a pulp. And yet somehow it didn’t die. Somehow the neurons and dendrites are still firing off signals. Telling my brain, for example, to start screaming inside my head. Telling my brain, for example, to jump in terror when a little mutt barks at me as I walk past. Telling my brain, for example, to send the impulses that make me want to start stabbing myself repeatedly with a pencil.

Am I disturbed? Yes. Is that especially apparent to me tonight? Yes. I want to do something horribly violent and drastic and it’s taking every ounce of will to not actually go through with it.

Sometimes I think they should ship me off to some other world where people aren’t right in the head. Oh right, that already exists. An insane asylum. Let them lock me up behind padded walls never to speak to another soul again. Please. Please. Take me away. Lock me up. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t maintain a hold on myself anymore. Who am I kidding anyway? How is it that I can pull off this ridiculous act of being okay.

Note to world: I’M NOT OKAY. I’VE NEVER BEEN OKAY. I’M NEVER GOING TO BE OKAY. Stop expecting shit from me. Stop asking what’s wrong when I look upset. MY WHOLE LIFE IS WRONG. WHY CAN’T ANYBODY SEE THAT. WHY DO PEOPLE LOOK AT ME AND THINK I’M OKAY?

I’m done. I’m done with this world. Who am I kidding anyway. Who am I kidding when I think I’m okay.

Maybe just myself. Maybe the only one I’m kidding is myself.


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