Empty, and hollow. Rare should I feel content and, dare I say, happy.

Some days are better than others, but I silently persevere through the tide

of life, by myself.

I have ten days of sobriety after a thirteen year relapse. Emotions buried away escape with every breath, when I try not to breathe they ooze out of my pores.

Im depressed I haven't seen a thick haze falling over me in- I mean I'm not sure I can conjur up anything relevent to explain the.. I'm hoping to try.

I overthink, and it’s hard to anchor myself back in reality. Sometimes I can’t tell if I have a million thoughts in my head or none at all.

Dead inside feeling pain in more ways than 1. Life difficulty increased 20 fold. Don't know why I'm still moving always felt like titanium. Lack of life though I'm alive.

Maybe I'm just a shitty person, but everyone says no because they don't want to hurt me. It's okay though, because I'm already hurting myself more than their opinions would.

I feel I'm stuck in a cyle.

I fell too hard and at the bottom, I'm held in the fog of confusion, desperation, hope and daydreams that won't come true.

I'm significantly better than I was this time last year. No pills. No therapy. The clouds have gently floated away. I'm feeling something new. I think the word is hopeful.

I know enough to have perspective. I don’t know enough to understand how to move forward. I’m walking the line between anger and acceptance, love and hate, peace and turmoil.

I'm lost. I'm tired. But I'll fight on. Darkness lies ahead as well as behind. Might as well go forward.