it’s a beautiful cycle. why would i ever want to leave?

i think life has lost its overall beauty for me. sure, looking outside is nice. sure, seeing animals be animals is great. sure, life has its moments, but they are only moments. moments that fail to last in my eyes as i always fall victim to discouraging distractions. 

the world i view, my world, has been limited to the confines of my room. i like to think this is my honest preference, but that could just be the strong desire to isolate and no longer exist. it doesn’t matter. i can’t stay here. i will have to go back outside…

i’ve grown to be a level of hopelessness that not even depression seems to address. i tend to feel i am stuck in some negative life loop and i can’t get out of. that’s not a very fun way to think, so i change things. i make drastic decisions hoping to escape whatever this undesired repetition is. the reality is, i’m not actually making drastic decisions despite how they appear outwardly. i always come back to the same place. every…single…time. it’s truly amazing how seemingly contrasting actions are more alike than i’d like to realize. by the time i realize i am actually doing the same thing, it’s too late. i am right back where i started.

i think the decisions i make are to avoid the real thing i need to change: my view of myself. i’ve been running away from myself for so long i don’t even know who i am. you’d think that was the desired outcome, but i am just lost. i thought i could live however i wanted. i thought i could construct a partial reality for myself. i now know how incredibly wrong i was. i thought being able to create a new personality meant i could also completely alter my reality. the basis of this hope was false. it wasn’t until i was smacked with the reality i had not changed as much as i hoped. i am still me despite not wanting to be. so…this means my reality is the same.

i sit here with my skin on fire because i want to truly heal and i can’t know if i am healing if i mask the discomfort. it’s pretty damn uncomfortable though. i thought the solution to my body’s outward tantrum would be to gain control of my mental health. turns out, i’m not actually as sick as i thought. i learned this when i made one of many drastic decisions. i’m not getting into it, but it’s confusing. i wished to tackle something that was actually not a big problem to begin with. the actual problem was my failure to listen to myself. i don’t actually know how to do that, hence my feelings of inauthenticity. even when i think i want to listen, i don’t. i hear and i run because how i am to live the life i “want” with these unnecessary desires? it’s easier to run. it’s gotten so easy that it’s become my “comfort.” i run and i run both in my dreams and in real life. it’s gotten to where i don’t even realize i have been running until i look at me feet and see unrecognizable ground. how far did i run? that question in itself makes me want to run even more.

even when i do listen and embrace parts of me, it’s only for a brief moment. before i know it, i am back trying to enforce my “desired” reality.

how am i to see the beauty of this world when i fear opening my eyes? i don’t know and i am back to keeping them closed. perhaps it’s better this way. it’s very possible i could never have what i truly want. i could never be who i really want to be. deep down i only desire a fantasy. the world i am creating now, it is concrete…

to ignore, to search, to find, to fear what has been found, and then ignore again. it’s a beautiful cycle. why would i ever want to leave?