Unspeakables

Sometimes there is shit in my head that is so ugly, so paranoid or so un-PC that I feel like it has no place running through my head, much less being spoken.  So I suppress it, and when it gets too bad to do that, I write it on paper, actual paper.  I try not to leave my composition notebook laying around.  I am ashamed at what can be found in there, at what can be found in my head.  But then it builds up and I get shaky and feel crazy.  I repeat scenarios in my head over and over, and I often can't stop until I put it into the world.  That's what writing this blog has done for me.  There's no doubt that the support I have received from most of the people who read it has been awesome.  But mostly I need a place to cleanse my mind and release this stuff.

I frequently see shadows and figures.  It's part of the paranoia, that someone/something is out to get me.  I hardly startle anymore.  A menacing figure might shorten this journey.

I have considered that I would prefer to have a "physical" illness, rather than a mental illness.  What a horrible thing to say, and yet, I wonder if I might fare better if I had a healthy mind to do battle with my broken body, instead of my intact body that continues to lose ground to my broken mind.

Last weekend, I was driving through a parking lot and I saw no less than three cars about to hit my car.  I jumped, yanked on the wheel and realized that the cars were parked.  Each time I had a flash of a moment where I considered that life might be easier if those cars smashed into me.

Last night, long after midnight, Kaia woke up crying.  When I had settled her back into a peaceful sleep, I said, "Sleep well, my angel."  I had such a horrible sense of foreboding that I couldn't sleep for hours.  Had I just condemned my little girl to some horrible fate?  Would she still be here if I slept?  It would have been my fault, I had no doubt.

I have lost all control over my thoughts and what is left in its stead is poison.