Monologue

Monologue

I have modeled my personality after so many different people. I am a chameleon to the person I am with. I have just become conscious of this behavior because forever it was so subtle. I become enthralled in a person and I try to absorb what I can from them in hopes of improving my own self.

I battle this urge on a daily basis. It is not an easy behavior to suppress. I have ingratiated myself to it. Being alone or with the same people consistently has negated the effects on me. 

The black fog descended upon me quickly. It did not tell me it was coming. Somewhere along the way came this day of dark gloom and negative charge throughout my air. It suffocated me and I realized I did not know who I was or why I was here.

This was when I first became conscious of my own disassociation. I would often look in the mirror and not recognize myself. I had done this since I was a teenager, so it was not new. Until I started asking others I had always thought it was a normal thought pattern.

I lost myself to the black fog in the strange humid blurry air of a Saturday morning in San Francisco. I lost it on the phone along with a dearly beloved friend. I lost it with the tequila I drank that evening. I was completely gone after a month.

My daily regime consisted of— No, it still does consist of taking pills to focus. Taking pills to regulate my mood. Taking pills for my brain’s serotonin. Taking pills to calm down. Taking pills to sleep. Trying not to take pills to sleep forever.

I wanted to become someone else entirely. Not realizing that this propensity for change was not feasible. You cannot become someone else, or something else. You cannot change the things that have happened to you.The events, people, actions, and words they have shaped you. But you can change how you will instigate a reaction with these things towards the future.

This is my current state of being. I must discover how I have felt and acted upon those feelings when reality has stricken me hard in the gut. I must appear vulnerable to the outside world. I must let people into my life and let others go free. I can no longer be guarded if I want to be better.

I feel so much grief and I have no idea where it came from or even when it came upon me. I am overcome with the sadness that seems to radiate with our air. Making it impossible for me to enjoy the outside world. Things seem to be ten times louder and brighter than they were before. I mourn the loss of my youth, which has not left yet, but it is not the same as it once was. The colors were muted, I was warm and fun. My aura feels blinding neon and I feel ice cold.

I like so many other young women of my age and class, have not carried my share of the burden of the earth. The weight of the world has suddenly descended upon me. I am realizing for the first time, how much the pain of others has wiggled a hole into my heart. The trouble there is that I feel the hole and I love the hole. Instead of filling it with love and positive energy, I have stuffed it filled with hate, sorrow, and anger. When I am not sad, I am angry. 

I understand I am not alone, but I have made myself alone. I will not pull myself from it, somehow I crave my depression. This is what makes it so sick. What makes it an illness, it has become an addiction. I am in an abusive relationship with myself. I cannot see the through the darkness. I cling to the black fog at the same time it gleefully moves around me.