Painfully Alone
Seeing the world more clear
The meds must be out of my system because the world is starting to look normal and the depression is setting back in. I’m remembering things that I’d rather forget and I’m quite sure I forgot some key information that may help me sooner rather than later in life.
I've noticed little things happening around me and am seeing people for what they are. I notice them being slowly removed from my life and that's fine. I've noticed turns up ahead and I think I'm meant to take them.
I smell a weird burning smell, but I'm nowhere near a kitchen. The taste of copper fills my mouth and a weird numbness covers my face.
I'm not going to make a big deal of it, because I know it will pass.
One way or another, it will pass.
I'm over being the person I was yesterday and I'm already bored with the person I am today. The ringing in my eyes and the terrible pain in my jaw tells me that today may be a different day.
You may read this and think that I am falling apart. You may even think that there may be cause for alarm. I assure you that I've been down this road before and, per the doctors, it's all in my head.
The pain, tastes, sounds, all of it is in my head. I would rather ignore the sharp pain in my chest rather than go to the ER and have a normal test causing them to shake their head once again. Even my husband doesn’t care anymore. He has no patience for tears that stream down my face or the moans of pain that keep me awake at night.
I'm on my own now and I've learned to accept it.
I know that there's more to it than what their machine says, but it doesn't matter. Like I said, I'm alone now, and alone physically and mentally hurts.