Pez and Chocolate Milk

It's that time again. Your six month mark is up. You pop pills like Pez, and drink beer like chocolate milk. You feel your mind slowly growing into two separate entities.

You feel like a psychopath. You understand pain, but you don't care if it's inflicted. You can care. You just choose not to. Your emotions are like a faucet. Only, when you bury your pain and numbness so deep down, and relive constant happiness. that happiness dims with no stark feeling to contrast. What makes your happiness grow brighter? What do you do when you have no bitter to make the sweet sweeter?

You pop pills like Pez and drink beer like chocolate milk. You're a young soul, already so lost, tired, and broken. What is a soul? What does it feel like? What does a soul smell, taste, and look like? How do you know you have a soul, when you're so numb and deadened all the time?

Six 10's later. Your head is warm and swimming. You feel lighter than your cumbersome body. You no longer taste the bitter foam of your alcohol. Will this make my happiness grow brighter? Will this make me feel something?

Your mind wanders. You duck and dodge excruciating memories, dancing clumsily through feelings you refuse to feel. You wonder if you can even quantify feelings, if they stay, if they need to leave, or if they just go away. You recall your stepmother mocking your depression, laughing at your suicide attempt because you "failed". You think about it so much, the feeling  goes away and all you see is the memory with no emotional attachment.

Is this what crazy feels like? Having complete and utter emptiness when thinking about everything and nothing? Is it normal to replay memories again and again until you're able to turn off the emotions, as if they were a lightswitch?

Perhaps. Then again, you've always been paranoid about going crazy. Does that paranoia in itself classify you as crazy? Maybe you need another Vicodin. Maybe you'll be reckless enough, not telling yourself you secretly want to die, and maybe you'll leave all this thinking behind. Maybe having a soul is the will to live. If so, I believe my soul has left me and my problems to our merry selves.