Brain Demons

Yeah, One Of These

Sometimes you need to leech the poison out…..

I do my best you know. I try the hardest I can on the days I have the ability to fucking try at all. I get up and Dad the best I can, even the days I want to hide under the blanket and pretend that I have no idea whose kids those are making all that noise. I get up and I come down here and try to be sociable, yes, at 3:30 in the fucking morning. What am I supposed to do, sit here like a rock and ignore the little dude who wants to sit in my lap, the middle guy laughing at the wonders of the world and the elder asking me questions he genuinely wants to know the answers to.

When they leave I come in and I cry, almost every day, at least for a minute or two. I cry because I am missing them already, I am in pain, I am sad because that is what I do or because I saw a cat that was homeless. It doesn’t take now, it never really has taken all that much at all.

I sit here and I message my people. I message them all in the same way, in the same order, with the same words, every single day because if I don’t have my routine I have nothing.

Then the day does what it does.

I don’t want sympathy, I am writing this because my brain told me I needed to and when my brain tells me to write something, I write it. I have no option in the matter. I am a slave to it and I will never not be and it is what has kept me around here long enough that you get to sit and read this thing.

I have written hundreds and hundreds of thousands of words. You have read some, a lot it may seem, but no.

The things I can’t write down, the things trapped in my head forever out of fear and shame, guilt and pain. I read them, in my head, behind my eyes, every single time I blink or try to sleep or tell myself the headache will go away soon because nothing can last that long, right?

I whine a lot to all of you. I call it all kinds of things, but let’s keep it real, I whine. I won’t promise to not do it, that is a lie, but I will at least own the word and try my best to mitigate the circumstances in which I do things.

Randomness Ensues

If you know me past a little bit, you know February is up there on my list of months that go can go fuck in a grease fire.

I miss all of you so much.

Rarwrz

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