-Stuck-

…Is there something wrong with me?
I want someone who can tell me the answer. I want someone who can take me by the shoulders and shake me and tell me I’m mad, tell me to snap out of this and be grateful for the life I have. Or tell me that everything will be all right, that I’m not out of mind and that somehow everything will be okay again. One or the other. But instead I get nothing but silence filled by my breath. And that’s the worst part. Silence can be a lot of things. It can be the pause before a kiss. Peace. Serenity. Anticipation. But not for me, not anymore. For me, silence is the sound of no-one caring. It’s isolation, it’s feeling trapped as I try to decide whether to sleep and succumb to nightmares or stay awake and be sad.
Please, please don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to be sad. God, no. And I am happy sometimes. Honest. But I’m so tired, and being tired makes me panic, and that makes me frightened, which keeps me from sleeping so I won’t be so tired anymore. I’m stuck and I’m so afraid that this will be my life from here on out.
—Benjamin Jastrow

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art, writing (c) me
(this is not me writing for myself; this is a character from my novel. I am not depressed in any way.)