i'm at the point in the cyclic depression in which i simply feel nothing.
i hear love and i think love but i feel no love.
i think envy and i see envy but i feel no envy.
i think pain and i see pain and i hear pain and i touch pain but i feel no pain.
i think hope and i see hope and everyone has hope. i feel no hope.
all i feel is tired. so i'll walk in the rain and see if that induces any emotion whatsoever.
this is when the cutting happens. when you can't feel anything, you go crazy wanting some sort of emotion. anything: love, hate, greed, lust, envy. when you can't feel the emotional you seek solace in the physical. at the very least, i can feel that very basic level of the pain hiding deep inside me. sometimes i get lucky and the cut will let all the emotions out and i can cry. sometimes it's the only thing left to do, at the point in the night when i can't sleep and there's no one to talk to (you say you'll always be there but that's not possible, even if you wanted to be) and even if there were i wouldn't have anything to say and just being there isn't enough. you can't help. futile attempts aren't enough anymore. i'm beyond that; i've sunken farther than you can probably imagine. empathy does nothing but make you feel better for caring.
what do i want? i want to feel again. i can think about the love i have for my friends and i know it's there somewhere; i just don't know where. i can listen to music and think about how this song used to make me cry and this song used to make me laugh but now it's just noise entering my ears. i can read books and think about how i used to live for them when i was younger; 3 days of living in another world, unable to separate reality from paper. now it's just that: paper. i can write, trying to express how i feel, trying to get it out somewhere, thinking if i can explain it i'll destroy it. i can run; maybe if i'm skinnier there won't be any room for angst. maybe if i run far enough i'll leave it behind. i can drive away, but it'll never be far enough.
but i can't forget it. it's always there. i can ignore it for awhile but it always comes back. but the problem is, it's nothing. there's nothing there. there's cotton in my mouth; there's a gap in my chest. the thoughts in my head are anything but coherent; slight formations of a point fizzle. how do you defeat nothing?
whoa. intense, man.