Headaches

  My head hurts. I have been sitting on the couch of my apartment for days as the world passes by. My mind is asleep but my eyes lay awake and open, as I can do nothing but sulk. My stomach hurts too. I have given up on eating since December. It’s January now and my body has become frail and dead. Though I have not touched a mirror or emerged from the blanket of emotions that I lay in I imagine that I look like a burnt-out cigarette. My skin has melted to the bones of my face and my brows which were once strong, have sloped into a constant frown. I know for a fact that I am running off of nothing but protein shakes that seem to brood in flavorless pleasure every time I take a sip.

The room I now stand in is gray. My kitchen is the only place I have journeyed to aside from the couch since I “slipped”. I know that if I were to walk past a mirror or happen to see my reflection on a plate, I will stand as if I were a deer in headlights. The shadows that mockingly dance around the room as cars drive by disapprovingly glare down at me as if I am the wrong one. They don’t know me though. No one truly knows me enough to walk into my home and understand why dishes are strewn across the counters that had once been so new and clean. They wouldn’t know why blankets and pillows were piled on top of the couch while I lay beneath, huddled in a ball of hopelessness.

All that I have heard every day for months is the fan. I started out watching TV but as things got repetitive, all I’ve done is sleep. The only thing that has stayed the same is the fan. My air conditioning has faded and worn out but the fan I bought only a month ago never stopped. The consistent whirring as the breeze brushes across my face is soothing. As if my mom was next to me, comforting me still. I know it’s not real though. Even though all I feel is comfort from the fan, it is also the only thing that constantly reminds me of what I don’t have. Every time the wind brushes up against my face, I am reminded of the fact that I am nothing and have nothing. All I wish is that I could be returned to the time in which my family understood. No one does though.

For so long my entire world has been robbed of all color. I sit on my couch eating nothing, drinking nothing, thinking nothing. Everything is practically black and white. I remember the time when I would wake up in the morning and look around my room with excitement and the eagerness of a child ready to emerge from its crib. I would whip open the curtains that blocked the sun and smile as the warmth spread from my face throughout my entire body. I could have stood there for hours. I never did though. I would instead begin my day by getting ready and changing into freshly washed clothes. It was the best my life had ever been. Not anymore though. Now I have no sense of night or day. I sleep through some days and stay awake some nights. My mind runs freely but I stopped running with it. Instead, I stay seated in a place where I know that nothing will change or go wrong.

I can search my mind from the bottom up for the reason I’m not dead. I know it should have happened. I should have been gone months ago. The fact that my mind still runs and my heart still beats is a miracle. I have willingly missed out on the things that used to bring me joy. I could have left this house and gotten help. I would have been able to leave and scream at the top of my lungs with joy that I have been freed. I would be able to feel the power of not being an emotional burden. Yet, I never changed. I tried countless times to rise above this. Ascend into a higher form of being that would allow me to spend my time somewhere other than a bed or a couch. I wish I had died all of those months ago. I should not be here and I know that. Every time I call someone that I thought was my friend for help the phone is not answered. So, every time I am forced to put down my phone which is the only thing connecting me to any help or the outside world, a part of me sinks into the ocean of filth that I am.

I need a shower. I have been inside for months on end without a shower. I wish every day that my legs will feel strong enough to carry me up towering stairs that I was once glad to clamber up. Even on bad days, I would force myself to go the extra mile and climb those stairs. Everything has changed though. It hurts to think that I have turned my back almost completely on any past that I could rely on. I barely remember the feeling of the warm water running down my back. It has been so long that I know if I tried to turn back, and undo the process that it took me to get to this place, I could not. I would be poked and pricked by the thorn bushes that line the walls of my mind. But, by this time I have to assume that those roses have withered and died. It truly is a shame I could never reach them anyway.

Though my mind hurts, my head hurts the most. I have been forced to process everything that has happened to me by myself, all alone. My stomach hurts too. The way my mind seems to recycle itself is almost poetic. Every time I get tired I just go to sleep which is something I never had to do before. I had a job and a life that would not allow me to just fall asleep. No matter what has happened in the past. My head has continued to hurt as my conscious self slips away. I have no life anymore and my head still hurts.