I feel like I’m caught in a destructive self-fulfilling prophecy.
Mostly because I literally feel like everything in me is broken and hours of the day should be dedicated to staring at the ceiling with a vacant gaze.
There are no ideas or hope. Just a lot of broken shards of what could have been to cut me open.
That’s the destructive part.
I know better than to throw myself into emotions. Once upon a time, I didn’t really care how I felt. There was nothing to feel, just a lot of blind faith to carry myself through drizzles.
But now it is my compass. It pushes me places I wouldn’t go, into valleys I would never tread. There’s just a lot of darkness and a lot of pain and a lot of loneliness.
I don’t like this but I’m feeling like there’s less I can do.
[Edited to remove tacky-sounding unhappy part I wasn’t satisfied with.]