Someone new introduced themselves as Paxil last night… yeah, like the med. It was as clear as day. We didn’t have a conversation or anything. He just introduced himself as that, said a few things, and it was over. I don’t know if it was a fleeting voice or someone who will stay with me for a little while.
Lately, it’s been happening a lot more frequently. Especially if I’m not focused on anything in particular, there are a lot of jumbled noises now.
This morning I woke up and I laid there on my side, eyes glazed over, that generic stare into the void that surrounds me look you always see in the movies. I felt so fucking sad. I filled up the bath tub with warm water while the sun was still hidden. I climbed in, held my breath, and allowed my body to rest under the water. The embryonic abeyance made me feel comfortable and completely hopeless all at once. Slowly, I let the air expel from my mouth, trying to capture the feeling of silence. No voices, no dissonance, no one to talk to. Just my own existence reclining within a nocturnal refuge. I imagined what it would feel like to continue exhaling, letting go of the mortal fibers…
I am unable to tell anyone how incredibly sad I feel, how hard this is, how badly I want to let go.
This, too, shall pass.