Sunday, December 31, 2006
Escape From Alcatraz
I haven’t written anything of substance in years. I mean everything happens in my head but as soon as I try to write it down, or type it out the words disappear, the thoughts become a jumbled mess or they disappear entirely. I guess that’s what happens when depression takes over the synapses of your brain. Or maybe it’s all the damn drugs.
It’s disappointing really. I want to write and I want to express myself, the words are lost to me. It’s one of the things that I despise most about my condition. I miss my freedom. The freedom to be and do everything that I always wanted to be. It seems that it’s all gone, or at least hidden in the deep dark recesses of my walled-up psyche. I want it back. I want to be free to express everything that I am feeling, doing, or wanting. I want the freedom to write about he and she without the words disappearing. I feel that he and she are trapped in my head with no means of escape and if only I can get them out I will be released from the prison in which I find myself.
Don’t assume that I am a prisoner. I have all the freedoms that are allotted to me. In some ways I am a prisoner. A prisoner of my mind, the anxiety and the depression. My prison is a self-imposed one, although it is involuntary. I am trapped by the insecurities that come from this disability, they plague me: weekly, daily, hourly and minutely.
It is freedom I seek. Freedom from the person I have become. I want to be the person that I am meant to be.
It’s disappointing really. I want to write and I want to express myself, the words are lost to me. It’s one of the things that I despise most about my condition. I miss my freedom. The freedom to be and do everything that I always wanted to be. It seems that it’s all gone, or at least hidden in the deep dark recesses of my walled-up psyche. I want it back. I want to be free to express everything that I am feeling, doing, or wanting. I want the freedom to write about he and she without the words disappearing. I feel that he and she are trapped in my head with no means of escape and if only I can get them out I will be released from the prison in which I find myself.
Don’t assume that I am a prisoner. I have all the freedoms that are allotted to me. In some ways I am a prisoner. A prisoner of my mind, the anxiety and the depression. My prison is a self-imposed one, although it is involuntary. I am trapped by the insecurities that come from this disability, they plague me: weekly, daily, hourly and minutely.
It is freedom I seek. Freedom from the person I have become. I want to be the person that I am meant to be.
Dragonfly 12/31/2006 09:04:00 PM