I am staring at the ceiling fan in my room. The curtains are all down and the lights all shut, my mind if filled with endless thoughts and my eyes are brimming with tears but I know I have to keep it fine and be strong and remain less anxious and pretend to be happy and contented. I feel breathless and try to drink some water, this is yet another panic attack and I know it, fourth one since the month has started and it is only the tenth today. I am amazed and shocked and mostly upset from myself, and in utter and complete despise of myself, I have let it happen again, and I need to find a way to punish myself to get out of the situation,
Bottled up with rage and loneliness, I have spend half of the day kicking pebbles with all my might and punching pillows. And even as my social networking is filled with dozens of people, I still happen to have nobody to vent it all out on to.
I do not understand.
I do not understand myself. How can I let myself down again and again and yet try to be nice to everyone, how can I have yet another of those sleepless nights and how can people just simply not observe. And no matter what I do I am always left alone at the same spot with the same feelings and nobody to be there,
And as I break down yet again I do not understand.
I do not understand why I cry. I do not understand why I want to need a shoulder to lean on to, I do not understand why nobody cares enough to stay just for a little while,
I surrender myself to silence.
I count up to twelve,
I shall stay ‘khaamosh’.