reclaiming this life remains to be a constant struggle, and in itself begs to be answered as to how i can do so.
i can’t remember what normal is, and i can’t believe that there is a normal anymore. there is always too much, or too little, sometimes none. every single aspect of life has fallen victim to it. there seems too much to regulate, that in the midst of it i lose my bearings and often fall flat. sometimes i return to status quo, most times i worsen and get triggered.
in my admittingly unwilling recovery, i thread on the thin line between life and death. i take consolation that i am still around, and mind you i do so, so that others recognise my effort. but i’m hypocritical that way. i’m alive, but i’m dead. my foot steps into the realms of death more often than not, and i cannot say for sure if i have even considered taking a step towards life. right in the middle it seems, is safer. i can come and go, and you can tug at me. but i’m still here. ambiguous. there seems to be nothing on this earth that could ever make me step across the line towards life, yet i will fall for anything, across towards death. shit does these to you. how do i reclaim this life?
trespassing the body- literally going against self-defense and survival reflexes and mechanisms- ironically became my way of living in a world i disagreed with. it came, and it never went away. too many times i tried to count the good days, to no avail. it was always doomed to fail, because i had to hurt to live. still i tell those who needed to know, that i’m free from such trespasses, in order for them to know that i am ok. i am not. this violent mind will not go away until it learns how to want to live again. until it finds meaning in life and in living. i ask myself if this sabotaging way is the way to go, if this is the way to survive. i know it’s a no. but i don’t know how else? again, how do i reclaim even some semblance of a normal being?
my body claimed its stake on me in illnesses and pain. my body lessens and lessens by the year. its grip on me ever so tenacious. and i don’t know how i’ll ever set myself free from it. time and time again i try to take back what is mine; regain control. but it doesn’t give. it only threatens to be more, and i keep popping the pills and sleeping. this life, and it seems adamant after 2 decades, it isn’t going to let me reclaim it.
this mind, this body, is not mine to take. i exist in it yes, but every living moment is spent attempting to reconcile what is, and what was. each day i live in fear of losing even what i have right now. this is the bare minimum, and if it’s anything less, i will cease to exist. yet, each day spent living and breathing is a dim spark of hope that tomorrow will be better. that tomorrow i will want to live, that tomorrow i will not trespass this body of mine, that tomorrow i will accept this failing body. that i can reclaim my life- the one i lost 5 years ago.
all these, just will not do.