I am not all sunshine and roses

I like to pretend like the problems in my life do not pass the realm of love and heartache. You see, mending a broken heart caused by a silly boy who you never really loved anyway is much easier than dealing with the dark and twisted disturbing problems that plague my mind.

I guess it was due. After a big high comes a big low. And the insomnia and the nightmares. I don’t mind the insomnia that much. I am lucky in the sense that I do not have many restless nights. Maybe insomnia isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s more of a really messed up sleeping pattern. If it strikes, I am awake. No tossing and turning. My brain is firing on all cylinders. I remember all the things that I have done, all these voices and people and memories that remain engraved in my mind like little reminders of how much life can suck. Of all the moments I shrug off as if they do not matter. They come back and haunt me, make my mind feel like I’m loosing it. I cry sometimes, not really because I’m sad, but because it makes breathing seem bearable in the tormented loneliness of the long night when even my own heart forsakes me. Fortunately for me, and my career, I am quite able to deal with it the whole of the next day. Although I do get nauseas by late afternoon for some reason, and that’s never pleasant.

What never gets easier is when my nightmares come back. They are so vivid and vicious and tear at my sanity all through the night, torturing those I love and care for without giving me any option to save them and no way out of it, no way to have the logic and neutrality of reality guide me. It is wicked, waking me up in such a panic that it sometimes takes me hours to calm down, to be courageous enough to once again attempt to sleep.

You see, my nightmares make my afraid of my own imagination. How does my brain even conjure up these visions? Where do they come from? More importantly, how do I make it stop? I wake up plagued by the images and worried about those I have dreamed about. It hurts me, physically makes me sick to see it all, but then it’s all not there. It didn’t really happen. And I don’t quite know how to process that either. How do you process that deep sense of loss when you haven’t in reality experienced that loss, you’re just feeling the emotions that accompany it…

It all sucks though. And needless to say my mood goes less than bright on these days. On most days really. There is so much dark I keep from my world, because I do not think there is any point to letting it out. It is what it is, and there is very little that an external factor can really do about it. You put your smile on, you pretend your all fine and dandy, sunshine and fucking roses baby. No major outbursts, no major fights. Just smile. They’ll not notice the cracks in your chipper personality. No darkness, no jaded truth. Just smile. They’ll never guess how unlit your soul can be, never know how things affect you in a way unimagined by them, not quite normal, not quite like that which they know.  Just smile… I love winter. I crave it and I miss it when it’s gone. Everyone else likes sunshine and roses… Remember now, just smile.

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