margriet (thatsmydog) wrote in _survivors_,

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i posted this entry in borderline earlier, but i thought some of you might be able to relate to these feelings as well.

this terrible kind of fear, an excitement that is without hope, that awaits only the news of some further grief, failure or humiliation and torture. a lassitude that enters the soul and makes you hope for better things and better work tomorrow, but hope without belief and conviction.

and the anger may be sparked by a particular offense, but underneath the spark lies an arsenal of fear from the threat of disappointment and abandonment.

boredom seems to swell like a balloon inside my head; it becomes a pressure inside the skull; sometimes i fear this balloon will burst and i will lose my reason. particularly when i'm alone, i lose the sensation of existing, of feeling real. marilyn monroe said that without people around her, she would fall into a void, "endless and terrifying".

for most people, solitude is longed for, an opportunity to reflect on memories and matters important to their well-being. but with a weak sense of self, you look back at only vacant reflections.

it's a staircase going neither up or down, we don't move, today is today, always is today.
Tags: anxiety, depression
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