Sharing Our Innermost Thoughts

I’m new. My currently manic mind couldn’t take it anymore and is now in need of some sort of validation. So I found this site and shall rant and vent here. FAIR WARNING. THIS WILL SOUND CHEESY LAME CORNY AND/OR ALL OF THE ABOVE FOR THOSE WHO CAN’T RELATE. The second you find yourself scoffing or rolling your eyes while reading, I urge you to take the exit and leave my post alone please. I need a safe space to put my thoughts out there. I’m not here looking for sympathy. I’m here to find some understanding. If someone reads it, then cool. If this gets ignored, no biggie. If someone reads and understand, then awesome. English is also not my first language and I’m writing this as I go because my mind is too full of thoughts right now. It’s racing and I’m just trying to get rid of some of the thoughts. So this whole thing WILL be all over the place, that I can assure you. It won’t have the best grammar and will probably have words missing. Try to make sense of it if you can. So without further ado, my rant:

I am tired my fellows. So fucking tired of holding myself together. I have tried. I have TRIED my best to keep it together. But for a long time now, I’ve felt like I’m a dried out sand castle left in the sun for too long. The ones that will easily crumble down with a slight touch. It’s like life just keeps chipping away at my sand castle one tower at a time and it won’t be long until it completely breaks down. I have tried my best to build my castle, every fine detail perfected, every line measured just right to make everything fit perfectly. But eventually life took me away, and my castle was left too long, and it dried up and the wind chipped away at it, and the tide rose and washed my castle all away until there were no trace left. All that effort gone. I tried to make it look pretty. I tried to make it look perfect outside to hide the imperfections buried under the sand. I really did. Everyday I keep trying to build the sand castle back up. Maybe higher walls? Thicker walls too maybe. Prettier sand art too. If people see how pretty it is then they won’t look too closely so then they won’t see the imperfections inside. Everyday I do this until I get taken away again and the tide washes it away again. It’s a circle.

My sandcastle also represents how much I’m lying to myself. Because I do want someone to look closely. I do want someone to see the imperfections. But why do I still build the tall thick pretty walls? Because I’m sacred as fuck. Because where I’m from, these same imperfections I see in others are scoffed at by my family. When they see someone’s castle with the same cracks I tried to painstaking hide, they would question it. The imperfections aren’t acceptable, they will be dismissed. My folks would scoff and say the castle’s sand artist just “wasn’t trying hard enough to build it perfectly.” So, that’s why I hide mine. It definitely doesn’t help that my castle has a rainbow flag on the highest tower.

Hiding. I tried to hide from the world four times. Well, not really hiding. I guess I was just trying to escape. I tried to go along with the tide when it washed my sandcastle away. Who knows what the horizon brings, ya know? I was 15 I think when I first attempted to leave. I’ve written countless letters in the sand where my castle used to be since then. Four times and yet I don’t remember (legit don’t) what washed me back up the shore. Whatever it is though, I fear it won’t bring me back for the fifth time. It’s not until I got older that I realized that I didn’t really want to go away. Not permanently. I just wanted it all to stop. But when the pain you’re trying to stop comes from a wound you can’t physically heal… I dunno man, you just get desperate. I just want to stop hurting. I’m tired of trying to build up sandcastles. I want someone to hold me so tightly that i can convince myself into thinking that the scattered pieces of my self has been put back together. But I don’t want my sanity to be dependent on someone either. It won’t be a fair burden for them.

Right now, there’s no trace of my sand castle. There are no letters where it used to stand. I’m simply at the stage where the tide has caught me and slowly drowning me. I legit can’t swim. I’m tired of trying to swim back up.

Enough with metaphors… I can’t fucking breathe. It’s like there’s something terrible about to happen and I just can’t rest easy. I have not been sleeping. It’s 3:46 am right now. My head constantly hurts my mind is racing with top many though its difficult to keep track. I dread the end of this manic episode because I know the depressive episode might follow before I’ve even recovered.

… I’ve written enough I think. My mind is calming down a bit, enough to let me sleep hopefully. If you call 4 hours of restless tossing sleep. I hate my mind honestly. If you read until this point, wow way to waste your time. But also thanks, I guess?

That’s all thanks!