I can’t remember when it shifted, maybe some time last September, my spirits lifted with the thought of what could be. But they fell to the ground fast, without a sound and now I’m slowly building them up.
I’ve changed and been changed so many times again I can barely recognise myself in the pictures of who I was then; looking out from the mirror, a chubby ghost masquerading as me. He’s not quite Christmas Future with a warning but Past told me that I would lose her, and I’m still in mourning.
My brain has strayed from the line that defines who I am and what I always hoped I could be.
I thought I was evolving but this cycle of self sabotage is just revolving, careening down the mountain side with nothing to break, but me. How can I stand tall when it takes more than my all just to get out of bed.
My rock long lost, I just roll with the punches thrown from my own fist. I know I’ve lost control when I wonder if I’d even be missed.
So I tell myself I’m better than this, my declining mental health will desist, if I don’t give in. If I don’t give in to the urge to stay inside, to purge the things I own, distance the people I love and embrace the desire to be alone.
Just hold on to yourself.
You are so much more than your mental health.