I'm beginning to think that this anxiety I have plagued myself with is actually something worse then I am admitting to, or allowing myself to admit to. Despite my confidence or psuedo-confidence that I cast over my life, there is always that little light in the back of my head pulling a rope tied to a gray cloud down closer and closer to my emotions, my life, my being.
That is the worst feeling having a damp being. It sounds digusting but I don't mean it in that way, I mean in the drained, drowned, damp emotions and soggy memories. The good times that were supposed to be exciting brought down because of one little chip snap and pop of the last straw. Things are building up inside of me, and it's beginning to anchor me to the lowest depths of this ocean.
This thick, murky ocean of..well, wow, life.
But it seems to me that the more I think about it, the more my little light in my head has trouble pulling. It is hard for me to accept that I'd be okay. I'm not okay? I'm okay.
I think there's something to say about all of this but I am just so tired, too tired of my head right now. I'll write more tomorrow.
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