On The Brink Of Being Lost

Something is happening to me. I can’t explain really, but I’ll try. I am hurting so bad. Can someone make it stop? Why won’t he leave me alone? The dreams won’t go away. They still scare me so bad. Everyone… everyone is a potential threat to me. Call it paranoia, I don’t care. I have to deal with it somehow… someway. Did someone hurt me? Did it really happen? What happened that night? The damp earth pressed against my face, the rope burns on my wrists, what does it all mean? Am I just crazy here, searching for something in my past that isn’t there? But it feels so real! The hands on me, the pillow over my head and the fear… oh the fear of what is next. How could I just create that? It had to have happened! Someone had to have done something to me that messed me up real bad. But why can’t I remember? If something like that happened, I wouldn’t forget. I mean… I remember other things, instances of terror. But they didn’t hurt… much. That can’t be it. Someone close to me did something… but who…what? More importantly, why? All of this suffering and confusion is killing me. It’s eating away at my soul…my essence. Pretty soon I’ll be like one of those autistic kids. I’ll stare off into space and won’t participate in or respond to the outside world because the one inside my head is confusing and demanding enough. I’m slipping away, slowly but surely losing my grip on reality. The claws of psychosis are digging deep into my flesh. I try to be like everyone else but I’m not. Everyone else doesn’t think of the things I do. Everyone else doesn’t lock all of their feelings inside and let them hurt there for a long time. Everyone else isn’t crazy like me. They don’t kick and scream or even cry like I do. No one else feels what I feel. Even if they did, it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to feel so worthless. Just let me be miserable in peace, if this even possible. Shut me away in some asylum, never to be heard of again. I’d be better off you know, no danger presents itself from inside a padded cell. Maybe for once I’d finally be safe from my biggest adversary, myself.
Sigh, I really am paranoid; there is no escaping that fact. Irrational and paranoid, oh what fun insanity can be. Well I guess I am not really insane. I wish I were, that would explain many of the things I do and feel. But I do not suffer from any mental illness; in fact I am a rather smart and logical type of person. Rational and calm, that’s me. If I were a victim of said lunacy though, then a reason for my extreme uniqueness would be presented. Could that help me claim back any dignity? Oh, this need to be mad, to go against the norm, I cannot hold it back any longer. If I were allowed just one day to exhibit signs of profound craziness, it would do so much good for my ever-fragile psyche. The opportunity of flirting with the dark side would certainly quell any obsession with such a shameful existence. Experiencing the true horror of being blinded by pure madness is sure to straighten me out. Everything would be just fine if I could keep a handle on this rage of fire inside of me. But the visions, they really do frighten me terribly. The pain has to cease. I must heal… from what though? What terror have I escaped? What fate have I avoided? Despair, old foe, you have come visit me again! I will leave you all with but one warning of numerous ones concocted. Whatever you do, never write someone off as just being out of his or her skull. Be lucky that you don’t have to wrestle with keeping your sanity at the forefront of your mind and the invasion of hell to but a dull roar, as do I.