A River in Egypt?

Even as a child, I was a knot. High-strung. Tangling thoughts just because I could. I always defended Friday 13th. I liked it just because it was thought to be unlucky. Maybe I always knew I was a black sheep. What’s worse? Being a black sheep and knowing it, or thinking you’re a black sheep when you’re not?

Consider this: thoughts are placebos. 
Again. Louder.
THOUGHTS ARE PLACEBOS.

We are what we think. And my mind is mean. Harsh and relentless. For how long can someone fight their own mind? How can they win? Where does your mind end and you begin?

My eyeballs have been swollen with tears for weeks; my tears are constantly en guarde. Why? Why?

Where does it all come from, this voice that tells me I’m unloveable? Also, unloved. How can my own mind, my own life make me claustrophobic? Don’t I control my mind? Didn’t I choose this life?

A few months ago, everything was coming together and now it seems to be draining. Maybe it’s me who is draining away. 

I am making myself into glass when I could so easily succumb into sand and be washed away. It’s taking all my guts to stay on the painful edge instead of toppling over. So I am stuck in no-man’s land: not okay, not not okay. But still, I am glass, and I crack, crack, crack.
I don’t have the strength to not crack. All I can do is not let too much water in. All I can do is keep reminding myself that I am not hopeless. But that’s like a kid holding a match at night, telling itself that the sun will come out before the match burns out. 

I have never felt quite this way before. I am not not okay. I am just a narrow, long pit of non-colour. I am not quite hysterical, but The Panic visits daily, sometimes twice. I am not sad but I cannot stop crying. 

Maybe I’m just bored.

Yes, that’s it. I’m bored.

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Published by

Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

6 thoughts on “A River in Egypt?”

  1. Do you think that we just think too much about what we think? I know the feeling of having to fight the mind, and it can be draining. But I also think it’s us being indulgent, spoilt even. We don’t have real problems, so we focus on the ones inside our head- the self created darkness that has become such a comfortable place. I’m not belittling your feelings at all here, but I really want to tell you that you shouldn’t let this define you. You’re so much stronger than that- remind yourself of that! Hugs ❤

    1. I agree with most of what you said! We think too much and it’s self-indulgent. I wouldn’t say that ‘we don’t know real problems’ though. For me, having a mind that bullies me IS a problem.

      But I am soooo bored of feeling like shit, so… now I don’t!

  2. You’re bored because you’re waiting on the world to catch up to you. It won’t…it never will. And even though you won’t say it, you know it and it’s sad. But when I read “unloveable”, “unloved”, and “not okay, not not okay” from someone with your mind and voice, I can only see you trying to fold yourself into a place that is not expansive enough…like origami, only there is just enough space for the simplest of shapes. You’re trying to fall back to the pace and space of what is around you because the frustration of being MORE is painful, relentless, and seemingly without end.

    “Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.” You’re trying to be less. You think you should be less because everything around you is less and only spoiled asshats think they are more…which is true. Those who actually are more and know they are more aren’t spoiled asshats precisely because they are who they are. They are relaxed, at peace.

    No, the world around you will never be big enough, so exceptional, old souls like you have to learn – at some point – that there is more world around them than it seems: inside, underneath, in the spaces in between, etc. They learn or they destroy themselves (a la Poe, Plath, Van Gogh, et. al.).

  3. The other day I read somewhere that we have on average 6,000 thoughts a day. That’s an awful lot of placebos.

    When I feel bored, I find it helps to strut around like Iggy Pop and sing, ‘I’m bored! I’m the Chairman of the bored!’

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