On the edge of a knife .

While I am working on new essays, personal struggles are making productivity a challenge. Revisions to the already-done seemed like a reasonable addition to a light schedule.
It’s interesting to see what was. I fixed a few of my more obvious comma splices, but likely missed others.
I decided to keep the lower-case affectation. As my mother pointed out, it’s who I was at the time.
The description of depression still rings true.

From Famine to Feast.


i feel like i’m perched on the edge of a blade, balanced there. it’s fragile, and tenuous, and there are circling monsters all around. it would take little to send me over and i’m tired. i’m so tired of the fight.

it’s fatiguing when you’ve been fighting for years, and you do all the right things, and you go through the motions, but the demons are still there, waiting and circling, taunting you, telling you all the ways you’re wrong.

i resent the need to make the effort, at times. i resent trying to stay positive. i resent that simple things like eating are such a challenge.

i hate the dark thoughts i’m constantly battling back. i don’t want to focus on the things i can control.

i want to rage and scream and cry out about the unfairness of it all, even though i’m aware that no one promised…

View original post 226 more words

One thought on “On the edge of a knife .

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.