I feel like I’m torn open every night at 2AM. I am left staring at all of the contrasting, horrifying aspects of myself layed out across the floor, next to my nail polish, my garbage can, and my dog. I have to see all of what I always try so hard to hide, lit by the dull glow of an orange lava lamp.
I must pick through varying personalities & traits, deciding which mask will fit best for the next day. I don’t know which parts are me and which parts are all the things that have hopped on for this awful, nightmarish ride.
It’s my nightly task; no matter how tired I am, I always work the graveyard.
How the hell does someone get prescribed 180 mg. of lorazepam at once?! Jesus, I fight to get 20.
I sleep in late when I feel depressed and I still don’t know what I want to be. Sometimes I forget to eat and other times I eat everything to keep from feeling empty. I’m that age where I’m not quite an adult but I’m expected to act like one and I don’t know how to do that. I’m lost. I’m unturned pages in an attic someplace and I just want to go back to sleep.
Do you just like spew food out of the side of your head when you eat?