The Fog

Some days, I wonder what the hell I'm doing? The things in my life don't seem to balance in the way I want, it takes a toll on me. Physically, mentally, both. Unaware individuals may think it's strange or just an excuse, but it's a real phenomenon. Whenever I am unbalanced l feel this way, overwhelmed and detached. I can't help but feel crazy living in this mirror paradox! I have a lot to say but I don't speak about it. It's as if the words waiting to be released in my head want to escape, but I don't feel like there is a place for me to say them. So here I am spilling my innermost feelings to something that does not engage with me nor reply to me lol. I am laughing out loud to the abbreviation virgins out there...… "WHY?" do I feel this way? What is it that makes me so desperate to start all over? I value consistency, so why have I been so angry with the consistency with which things have been going lately? My answer seems superficial and I am only able to provide a surface-level reason for it, and I am not satisfied with my answer. I guess I’m aware that it has to be bigger, deeper. Quick fixes, nightclubs, sex, or avoidance don't seem to help. What should I do? How do I fix it? My heart is very heavy right now. As I write this, I have no words to describe how deep my pain is. As an analogy, I am in a place where I know how to get around, but I still feel lost. I know what is ahead of me, but each time we move ahead I seem to fall for the same tricks that trap me. This place is different, this time I am different, too. While I feel the same way, I am not as susceptible to tricks and traps as I used to be. I do not experience anger - just annoyance and frustration. Where am I now? I thought I'd know who I am by now? Lately, that question has been the echo in my ears, the water in my throat, the fog in my mind. I toss and turn all night long because of it. But that version of myself I never want to be again! She’s……. Someone I no longer want to be, nor the woman typing this. Neither version is good. One cares too much while the other does not care enough. Yet they are both hurt, bleeding, and suffering from the same wounds. She, they are two halves of the same coin. As a result, I am not happy with neither, hence I am not happy with myself. I have either always been one or the other. Warm or cold, sour or sweet, faithful or unfaithful, good or bad. There is no in-between. While I can already see the new me, the person I desperately want to be, crave to be, and desire to be, she's just as hazy as an autumn night.