Read This Is You’re Feeling Lost, Maybe Because You Think Too Much


It’s like I’m drowning, and instead of saving me they blame me for not knowing how to swim. I’m breathing water instead of air, I can’t feel myself anymore and all they do is watch. Watch me till I give in to the depth of oceans and lay there at rest, so that they can finally say, “I knew this was coming.” All I wanted was help, and this is what they give me. Death.

The world is a strange place – it gives you everything you need and then it snatches it all away however it likes. Then people ask me why am I sad. Is this not horrifying enough? My mind plays games with me, so dark that I cry, but that does not stop it. I’m not sure anymore of who is the master. Is someone else controlling me? Or is it just me turned into something else? I can’t even remember who or what was I like before. Am I haunted? Not by ghosts, but maybe by the betrayals, the rejections, low self-esteem, the scarred past. And who is it if it’s not people? It is them. It has always been them.

I know I am the only one who led myself to this dark, ruinous maze. It is not very pleasant here, and I’m lost. I’m trying to get out; I’m doing all that I can, but somehow I get lost all the more. I want to get out of here, I really do. This place is sucking the life out of me. Is it too deleterious of me to ask for a helping hand? Too illicit to call out? I don’t care if it is, as long as it saves me. When you’re stuck in a place like this, all you can think about is an escape, even if it means burning it all down along with your own self.

Or is it just in my head? Have I created this miserable place? Am I thinking too much? Reading too much into the lines? This is the ‘too much’ that hurts. I want to get rid of that. That too-much is what kills people, people like me. I’ve been having weird dreams too for a while, only on the nights when I actually sleep. I’ve lost my sleep too. So yes, the dreams.

Mostly, they are like I’m stuck in a congested place – a tunnel, a cave, a lift – anything that takes my breath away. It’s like they want me to not breathe, or is it me? Do I want that for myself? Do I want to stop breathing? I’m not sure. Where I’m at, is hell enough. Breathing and knowing what and who is around me is so much better than living a nightmare with no way out. I don’t think I can take any worse than there already is. If it won’t get any better, then I won’t let it get any worse either.

That sounds like I’m strong. A survivor. Am I? Or am I just scared and still? No moving – back or forth. Too scared of change, too scared to bring in something new, to afraid of exotic; that sounds more like me. The question is, what has brought me to this. I know I said that it’s me, but what made me do this? How did I land here – in a place so woeful with this energy so dark? This is what they call silent screams, and it’s not pretty. It’s ghastlier than you can ever imagine. Being in the grey is more horrifying than being in the dark. I hope you never take yourself there. If you’re already there, take my hand, we have some serious hunting to do.