It always starts with my heart beat. The tempo rises into an unbearable rhythem and it progresses onto tears and a gasp for air. The more I try to stop the beating and silent screams, the more frustrated I become. The pills on the counter silently laugh at me, tempting me to visit and discover a land with no feeling at all. The vicious cycle has been a continuous thing, pushing my mind into further recesses and giving me no hope at all. I'm on a second type of medication and I have no idea if it will help either. I know I am not alone and the more I try to focus on others and their lives, the more I feel as if I have no purpose here. Why am I here? What were the gods thinking as they assembled my parts and thoughts? I feel like a piano, constantly having my keys pushed in order to gain a different response. The composer must be deriving his work from a sledgehammer because every missed note hurts me even more. The more high strung I become, the more I drive those around me away. I want to be the one who is away. Being in England was a god send and also a difficult thing. Being away gave me hope, being without my medication gave me headaches and anxiety about my future. I didn't want to come back. Seriously contemplating fleeing the hotel as my sweet friends slept, I wanted to run and find work and be happy and new. However that is the simple definition of running away. It is what I want to do, if not England than Canada. Anywhere I can start fresh. Im not in a good place mentally and physically. Very tired, either from jet lag or the multiple missed doses. Its sad that I have no clue witch one.
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