02:02 am Minutes seem like hours.
2 Xanax swallowed. Still no effect. A third one maybe?
194 days, or 6 months and 12 days since the last time I was really well. It just happened overnight. November 20, 2021. I was fine and then when I woke up I wasn’t fine anymore.
It’s starting to feel like a long time. Minutes that seemed like hours, hours that seemed like days, days that seemed like weeks, weeks that seemed like months and months that seemed like years. What day was it again?
Paradoxically, it passed very quickly. Quick but slow. Strange. Time doesn’t flow the same.
I remember November as if it were yesterday or maybe the day before, as if I had barely blinked. But when I think of all those days of doing nothing, stuck in bed, in the dark, tired, I feel the 6 months weighing on my shoulders. I don’t feel more rested. As if resting was worse. Or maybe I’m not really resting?
02:05 am Maybe that’s it. I think too much. I turn over in my mind too much. But I don’t remember that either? When was the last time everything was quiet in my head? When was the last time I stopped thinking? Never, I think.
I have memories of me, as a young girl, already thinking about many things at the same time. Thinking about everything, all the time, about anything, at any time, at any place. It always goes so fast.
« What if …? And what if ..? » Always one step ahead of everyone else, often ahead of myself. Is it foresight? anxiety? madness? organization? pessimism?
And why can I still forget everything? Did I get fat? Have I lost weight? I think I ate two days ago. I don’t actually remember. I don’t even know what I’m thinking about. I have no more room in my mind. Bloated by parasitic thoughts.
02:07 am What happened in November? Nothing really. I was fine, in my studies, in my head, in my student work. Well paid and with good grades. Some good friends, a family, a boyfriend. Today I want nothing.
02:12 am I don’t want nothing. I want everything. Or I just want something else? I still want my surroundings and my life. But not my current life. I want to do something else. Do I really enjoy my studies? Am I fulfilling myself? Do I like my life?
02:13 am But what do I like? I think all the time but I don’t know what I like. Finally, maybe I don’t think enough about myself. Maybe I don’t know myself. In so many years I don’t know who I am. Do I live for myself? Not sure. People live for themselves?
02:18 am I read stories on Reddit of people worse than me. Who have a lot to mourn. That should make me feel better. I like sad stories, but tonight it doesn’t help me. It’s getting worse and worse. How long have I been reading? Barely 3 minutes. Yet everything seems so long.
02:19 am Why am I not happy? I have everything and it’s not enough? Or do I not have enough? Do I give myself the means to have more? Why don’t I have more? I will never have more. I’m too tired. A third Xanax and I’ll forget everything. For now. Is it already day?
17 minutes of thinking 17 minutes of ruminating That’s all it takes to go through my life. Maybe less to go through yours?
Well soon it’s going to start all over again. And in another 17 minutes, it will start again. And again. And so it goes on autopilot until my brain is too exhausted to continue.
Finally, it was a November like any other. A day like any other. I fell asleep and woke up like that. Maybe tomorrow when you wake up you’ll be trapped in your thoughts forever. Just like me. Stuck forever and ever. Looking for a possible way out before being too tired to continue.
What keeps us awake at night is not the nightmares, or the strange noises. It’s not the fear of the dark. What keeps us awake is the incessant drumming of our thoughts in our skulls, asking only one thing: to get out.
02:20 am Minutes seem like hours.
3 Xanax swallowed. Still no effect. A fourth one maybe?