Today I woke up with more paranoia than I had ever imagined.
Every morning has been anxiety.
Every night, I spend hours staring at my own brain.
When I sleep, it is restless, and my body is thrashed from my own fitful tossing.
I'm fearing some imminent blackness.
Two days ago, I felt the complete distinction between lightness - and the moment it turned to darkness.
I think the more busy I am, the more distant I become from others, the less reassured I am. I'm dominated by my uncertainty and doubt. I have mistaken busyness for connection.
I am afraid. I'm afraid of environment and every single person that I can think of destroying me with their hate. I'm afraid of my circumstances collapsing on my head. I am afraid of myself, and my self hurt.
I'm entering this darkness with more tools to deal with it than ever before. This makes me believe that I will survive it, and do this strongly. I am glad for this. I am going to be magnificent. This is no longer false hope.
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