Sunday, October 18, 2015

One is Never Cured

The problem with keeping secrets is that they are alive sometimes. I like to think that my secrets can lie quietly in my mind, as dirt lies quietly on the ground. But when a storm comes, dirt tends to blow around everywhere. Secrets aren’t just our creations, they are our creatures, beings with wills of their own and they will grow. The scariest thing about secrets is that they want out. My secrets often try to escape into an open for all to see, because keeping them to myself sometimes leads to my complete psychological destruction. My secrets are simply a part of my life that has been forced into hiding.

It’s right around 1 in the morning, and I’ve only had 6 hours of sleep in 2 days. Eventually my body and mind will crash. I’ve just been racking my brain trying to think why I did what I did, and what was going through my mind at the time. I had to force the chemical imbalance to shift in my brain in order to feel some sort of relief, peace, and even completion. Maybe even make life feel fair again. I guess it’s all due to the need to be accepted as I am, but I know that can never happen as long as there is a part of me that no one sees or knows.

“Seizing the opportunity to momentarily exercise control when the perception is one of powerlessness.”

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