my shell...

I'm tired, exhausted... so much so that all I wish for is a nice long nap that I will never have to wake up from.... flaurished with dreams of all the things in life that I can never have, that will enver come my way.... how dreams remain dreams...

I am looking at life through my pair of grey shaded glasses again... many would simply comment that it's a choice, MY choice to do so... that it's me who don't want to let go of the me that is depressed... the me that was what clinicians would gladly label as "ill"... but then, what if it's really not my choice....? anyone ever considered that option and stop putting all the blame on me? what if I really can't control it? as I am voicing it out now, is there anyone to believe me? is there anyone to take my words for what it really is?

it's so hard... to live a life not knowing yourself for what you truly are, beneath all the layers, all the mask you put on each day jsut so that you can face the world without tears....

perhaps, it was meant to be an everlasting masquerade ball afterall... of which we change partners, meet new people with new personas at the end of each new tune....

I wanna jsut crawl back to my shell for all i care... it's just getting to become more and more overwhelming and I question my abilities now... right this instant, where do i stand on this scale of stability as defined by everyone else but me... where do I stand?

hate this... emotions are wearing me down... my moodswings are back... paralysing... enough of self pitying... enough of self indulgence in deep depression.... yet, there isn't much that I can do really... perhaps I have just conformed to what the norm says a mental patient should act like... perhaps I've grown so accustomed to being ill, being helpless, being hopeless that the world seems so surreal, seems so strange to me... that it frightens me...

perhaps, it's because being ill is the only identity that I've ever had... that I've ever known myself with.... without my illness, I am no one.... for that I fear... I fear getting well for getting well means loosing a part of me that I've gotten used to for so long... a part of me that makes me me...

irony...

i've worked so hard just to get to where I am... yet deep down I really don't want to be here...

I don't understand... I can't understand... it doesn't make sense....

I jsut want to crawl back into my shell ad sleep for eternity....