I’ve been saying I’m fine, a lot lately. This last week’s been very high. I’ve been laughing, and joking and smiling from ear to ear. My face has enjoyed using the right muscles for once. The world around me’s been unreal. Like, not unreal as in amazing, but unreal as in unreal. I’ve been looking at all the people around me and not understood how they exist, or that they exist. I’m not sure whether they are or not. And I know that my therapist calls this derealization, and that it’s a symptom of mental unbalance, which I do believe I’m in, but it doesn’t make me feel as if anything is more real to know that … And even if I’m smiling, and saying over and over that I’m fine, and that nothing is wrong, I know that it is. Because the pain’s not gone. It’s there. Just hiding. But now … now it feels as if it’s all crashing back to me.
It felt good being fine for a while .. though, I wasn’t really fine. You’re not fine when you cut yourself and laugh hysterically when you see blood oozing from a hole in your skin. You’re not fine when you’re searching online for ways to obtain drugs, for your death. You’re not fine when you see the people who love you in pain and don’t feel a thing. You’re not fine when all you can think of is dying. But still, it felt better being ‘fine’ for a while. It was better than the pain owning me, humiliating me, using me. With all the smiles here, though they’re fake, the pain just … sits there. Quiet, in a corner of my heart.
Now it feels as if it’s all coming back to me. That the pain is taking control again, owning me again. And I can’t stand that. I can’t take that. I can’t take any more.