6.

 It’s sort of unreal how one day can be entirely normal—for whatever your standards consider normal,

and the next day you want to cease to exist. 

It’s never been more than a nagging thought, for the most part. More frequently than the average human, less frequently than the actively suicidal.

And yet, I’m still stuck in psychiatric limbo. 

I don’t want to die, except on the really bad days—but even those are becoming too frequent for my liking. 

It’s like being on a merry go round really. A constant spiral, over and over, different views but also the same.

Different views depending on the day. 

I’d like it all to stop quite frankly. It’s getting entirely too hard to act like I’m okay, especially in that sense. Not all that easy to act like I have everything together on the surface when it’s really a raging inferno of dumpster fire underneath. 

I’d like for it all to stop, just for a second. To get my grasp on reality just long enough to come up for air  

—The merry go round is making me sick, I’d like to get off now please.