our fight

Just a commentary on life with mental disorders

Midnights getting close and I can feel it creeping in. It starts off so small that you miss it. But that's its venom stating to work its way inside. you start to feel it and you already know its to late. You know you can't out run it or fight it away but you try anyway. You try to bury it under anger but it just causes it to move faster. It frustrates you, taking every advantage it can. it wants you to not be able to think straight. It wants you to slip up and let it all the way in so it can brake you down even faster, but even if you keep it from weakining you, you won't be able to keep it out. It has a little door in your head that it keeps open and won't let you close. Its made this door out of your own thoughts and now its to late to stop that door from forming and the most you can do it try to block it as long as possible but you know some day its going to win. Nobody can keep that fight going for as long as it would take. No one can be alone for that long. It keeps you alone, it needs you alone. You can be surrounded by people or on a deserted island and you won't feel any less alone. It has you to tightly. It keeps you locked away on your head with its door and it just keeps feeding itself into that door. Its closer to midnight and its already won. You just don't want to face it, you can't face it, because to face it would be, let's face it, suicide. It might have had a cause but its been long forgotten. Held onto so tightly and for so long that when you go to let it go, its already got to strong ahold of you. Its become a part of you just like a hand. But you can't cut it off. You would cutt off those hands to get it to go away, but no matter how much you cut, you won't do more then delay it. You can't trade the pain for a new one, its paciant, it can out wait the physical pain because it already has a cozy little home inside of your head. and it doesn't care how long of a wait it has. its with you for life now and it knows it.

Its like a car crash in slow motion. You can't look away. no matter how bad it gets.

You can feel it creep up your spin with its fingers at first but then you feel the rest of its embrase. Like the ground embrasing a coffin as it sinks in deeper.

Its hurting every day of your life. Its wearing a mask for so long that people don't recognize you with out it.

ITs waking up drenched in sweat because of how badly your nightmares make you feel. You wake up sick everyday and it never goes away, just dulls or grows.

We are worriers more then any man could be. We alone have to fight everyday of our lives. Fighting in the darkest and dirtiest pleases ever imagined. Our battles last weeks instead of hours and we never walk away in victory. Just away. And we alone fight a fight we know we'll ultimately loose no matter how we fight. Everything is just a stale until our ultimate lose.
understand, our finally lose will be our greatest battle because it ends with just as our lives do, and only then do we hope to get pease.

Author's Note

Yes, its dark.