The blur.

Things are a haze, a slight blur, that morning fog that lasts all day. I cannot find the words to articulate, I am endlessly numb, my voice being frozen within, emotionally vacant. Gulping coffee like it's medicine, an IV of Prozac, embracing those caffeine shakes, my blinds drawn, I'm too gone to leave this apartment.


They keep asking how I feel, but I have no answer. Exhausted I tell them, anxious, And it is truth, but there is something else there, bubbling beneath the surface and I don't have the words to properly express it. It is uneasy, it is awful, it is painful, I want to cry but the tears won't come, I am endlessly numb and emotionally vacant. I am disconnected.


I might lose my mind, Waiting for the comedown, that crash landing, breaking what's already broken. Looking in the mirror, thinking I can't believe what I have become, I swore I was become someone. We lose our dreams and potentials, wrongly stolen from us, from the hands of depression and BPD. My good intentions not good enough.


These last few weeks have been exhausting, PTSD knocking the breath out of me, I'm lost in my imagination, And there's one thing that I need from you; patience. Please be patient with me. Please don't hug me or try to fix me, I just need your patience. Because I will heal, I will start again, I will pull myself back together again, the same way I tore myself apart, I don't know when, but I will because I know that If I lose myself, I will lose it all.