What I Wouldn’t Give To Feel

Wednesday, March 29th, 2017

I just don’t feel anything.

I don’t know how to explain it. But it feels like my whole life is taking place behind this glass box. And sometimes I’m pounding against it as hard as I can, but it doesn’t matter.

Sometimes I’m just curled up in the corner because what’s the point of pounding anymore?

And sometimes I can’t pound or sit because the glass feels so present and crushing that I am trapped right in between it.

I completely understand why drug abuse is higher in abused women. Sometimes I feel like maybe if I just started doing drugs, things would be better. And I don’t mean to be flippant about that (or to make you think that I’m actually in real danger of becoming a drug addict), but I am so desperate to feel, it’s like, hook me up, man! I’m almost ready to just live a crazy life that eventually sends me to rehab or worse if it means I can feel something… (And for some reason, it would feel more “okay” to seek help or struggle for some sort of addiction than for being affected by being assaulted.) I barely even know what I’m saying.

I just want to feel. *pound, pound, pound* I’m so tired of being trapped in here. I just wanna get out.

 

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