Go Inside To Discover



There are photographs of who I used to be, but none of them can be trusted. There are various accounts of my behaviour during the course of my breakdown, but they’re neither here nor there. In the midst of my depression, there were no words, only the desire to forget about my life and everyone I had ever loved. There was a woman I was seeing at the time who shall remain nameless. When she found out about my diagnosis, and that I’d been prescribed medication for it, she asked me what I had to be depressed about. Needless to say, I kept my mouth shut and withdrew that little bit more. But it is what it is. We are what we are. Since I took a peek-a-boo into the abyss and figured out writing was the only thing that could save me, I’ve excluded those from my life that don’t share the same beliefs. There is no place in these visions for anyone who can’t step outside themselves, and as such, those that see only a man composed of flesh and bone hold no interest. And yet the need and love of self-expression is a selfish one. It consumes and lets in little daylight. The pressure of picking away while remaining poor and misunderstood weigh heavy on my weary soul, and yet what is there but to continue. After all, the exit back has long since been erased. To put yourself out on a limb- to take a risk with no plan b- oh what a foolish thing, and yet the kicks we get never fail to make our hearts skip a beat. The lonely roads. The empty rooms. They await us still.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com

23 replies »

  1. Great post, writing does help out a lot. That is why I started writing to relieve myself of inner pain.
    Blessings to you

  2. “To put yourself out on a limb- to take a risk with no plan b- oh what a foolish thing, and yet the kicks we get never fail to make our hearts skip a beat.” – right?
    That foolish woman and others like her have indeed no place in your life – you’ve got us other misfits xo ❤

    • I’m glad you agree 🙂
      It’s a nice feeling knowing there’s a place for the likes of me. Having spent so long being lead to believe my way of being was ‘wrong’, it is liberating indeed to read your words xo ❤

  3. This hits some deep, familiar places. That sense of my memory and self-perception not being reliable. Of being surrounded by people who felt like a little fresh air and sunshine would clear that depression right up or that somehow my depression was somehow a betrayal, a lack of gratitude for what I have. I read the expression recently “a room so quiet and empty it hurts.” This reminds me of it.

  4. You are such a talented, wonderful writer, and I stand in struggle with your solidarity against mental illness. I often find the most gifted artists are the one who fought for their works the most.

    • How kind and sweet of you. I am deeply touched by your warm words, my friend. I believe the same- that for our art to resonate with others it has to come from a burning heart. To express ourselves in a way others can relate to, we need to feel everything twice over whether it be good or bad.

  5. The most powerful words come from those who’ve, at one point or another, lived in hell. All this fire from this pain–it won’t ever be comparable to the pain itself, it never subsides the pain, and that’s the most ridiculous type of beauty.

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