I hate my recurring thoughts. They speak of truths that I’m already familiar with, of instances in my head that I once twisted to suit my own weaknesses, of past problems that I don’t need bogging me down—I already have too many of those. Too many.
I don’t need reminders of the days when it hurt to be alive because there they are, always lingering one step behind, prepared to pounce on me should I unwittingly open that door. Hell, sometimes I’m not even near it, sometimes I’m just sitting down utterly bored or way too happy and the thing flies right open. As if forced to by a gale of cruelty that I don’t understand, but I know one thing… it has this tendency of following me around. Of vanishing and returning at the strangest of times. I’m not dense enough to not realize what that cutting wind might be, neither do I seek help for it. It’s there, and that’s that. I know the draft will pass, and though they may turn into full blown hurricanes, even those lose their potency in the face of the unyielding sea.
I have never once needed help trying to compartmentalize all the thoughts that run rampant inside my mind.
I suppose, what I’m really trying to say is that… today, I’m just tired of feeling tired.