Discocombulated

 At times, there is peace and quiet in the dead of night. Ah! Peace and quiet both force me to pick my own brain and to watch the maze it has become in such a quick time. Depression is thy name, a Dedalus of incomprehensible mess made of toxic thoughts and dread. Depression is thy name and is holding me on a chokehold, marveling at my body struggling to shake my body free. It toys with me, allowing me to catch my breath back so I can regain some consciousness before it squeezes the life off of me again. At times there is peace and quiet in the dead of night and I can, yes, I can travel inside my mind.  I can travel the maze and look at the broken pieces of my soul. 

There are days when I find comfort in looking at my memories. Comfort I find in knowing I have survived the worst. There are days when I have enough strength in me that I can look at those memories and instead of reliving those traumas, I can take a step back and see how much of a warrior I actually am. I could have been gone. I could have been alone but I am both alive and I am not alone. Revisiting those moments is sometimes very difficult, but humbling at the same time because I am reminded of the cruel nature of humans, and also of the beautiful hearts some of them also have.  I am reminded of the choices I made, the lessons learned and the mistakes I would never make again. I find comfort, but only on days like these. 

There are days when I feel dread. I am not strong enough to keep the demons at bay. They talk louder and they talk over me. They are so overwhelming that I am suffocating under the crushing weight of my regrets. Walking down memory lane, on days like these, feel like torture. I couldn't stand myself, I couldn't keep going. I felt like I deserved those ignominies and should be punished more. On days like these.....oh On days like these, I reject the peace and quiet. I would do anything to fill the silence with noise. I would listen to music, I would write, and I would talk or even read. I would do anything but listen to myself or revisit the painful memories. This way I wouldn't allow toxic thoughts to creep into my brain. I wouldn't convince myself that I should have it worse. 

Here I am today, in the peace and quiet of my room. I see the maze, and I walk through it. I see the memories, and the fear and the Hope and the joy and all those emotions that are being mixed in that brain of mine. here I am today, comfortable in my skin -those days do exist as well-, comfortable in watching my story unfold before my eyes. I loved, I lost, I suffered, I learned... In a way, I have been through everything and anything. I lived. That's the thing I see today. I lived. I live! Life is messy. Life is so fucking messy but I am slowly starting to see the beauty of it.