The Mind of The Lost

I’ve realised that I haven’t been living for a very long time. I fill my days and nights with work and unattainable goals. Every day feels like I’m on autopilot and I don’t stop to take a breath and really live. It feels like it’s been years since the last time I actually sat down and thought about my life. Even though in reality, its probably only been a few weeks.

It’s funny how so many things can change in a few days and hours. Yet, I still feel just as lost as ever. The most frustrating part out of all of this is that I don’t even know what I don’t know. I don’t know what’s making me feel this way and I can’t put a word to what I feel. It feels like a chronic feeling of emptiness and dread. It feels like confusion and pain, all mixed into a whirling mess of being human.

I miss things that I don’t know. I feel broken yet whole. It’s a confusing feeling to have.

Every day feels like white noise. I can’t distinguish one day from the next, it engulfs me and swallows me whole. It takes me up in one bite, in one swoosh, in one wave. I can’t see through the haze and it bathes me in chills. It amplifies each other as each second ticks by. And soon, it gets so loud that I can’t hear a thing.

While all of this is happening around me, I am walking and eating and reading. I maintain a high functioning life with my low functioning mind. I smile and wave, and I skip instead of walk.

But when I’m finally alone and when I finally stop for a second to breathe, it all comes crashing back down on me. And I finally remember what it’s like to live life like me.

On normal days, I dissociate and push everything aside. I refuse to think, I refuse to breathe. I refuse to acknowledge the mess in between my ears. Then the white noise got softer in response to my high barriers. I can hear it again. A constant humming, threatening to grow louder at any second. Forcing me to notice and acknowledge it.

The beating of wings, a swarm of flying insects. A buzz that isn’t distinguishable as a buzz. Cacophony, chaos. The melody of my existence, the music that I dance to. The rhythm that sways you and makes you lost.

I am here again, back where I started before. I thought the noise was gone, but now it’s back. And I finally learn that it never actually left, it just hid within the shadows of my mind. Creeping, crawling, looking for another moment to strike again.

I finally realise that the looming feeling in my heart had been my brain waiting to sabotage me. And I sit here, I sit here finally breathing.

Breathing at last. In between the boundaries of living and surviving. In between the boundaries of life and death. In between the boundaries of happiness and sadness. I am breathing, but am I alive?

I miss something that I don’t know or understand. I crave and want something that I don’t know or understand. I feel empty while I feel whole. I feel like a book with a torn out page. I feel like a jar with its lid open. I feel like a door when it’s ajar. I feel like somebody with their heart ripped out. I feel like a tunnel, I feel like a black hole, I feel like a dark abyss. But I also feel light, and warmth and pain.

So what am I? Am I alive or am I just breathing?

Is there a difference in anything I just said?

I feel lost. I feel like a child waiting for their parents to come back home. But I’m afraid that no one like that exists, and I’m forced to grow up on my own.

Would you be my parent for me instead?

Would you teach me? Would you love me? Would you tell me the things that I want to hear? Would you be able to make all this white noise go away? Would you be able to stop me from crying and feeling sad all the time?

I miss something that I didn’t know I even had.

I miss you and all that encompasses you. But I also feel like you tore me instead of healed me. So what am I to do?

Do I go back to you anyway? Or do I remain catatonic?

Do I just simply continue to exist or should I try to live like you?

I’m scared of messing up and making things worse. I’m scared of making you feel tired of me. Because I am tired of me.

I miss those days when I couldn’t hear the noise. It was nice while it lasted. But now it’s back and now you’re gone.

You’re gone? No, I’m gone.

Are you here?

 

xx Solaris Denali

 

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