The Best of the Worst

There are times when I'm just fighting to breathe. When I can't hold on to anything else But. I. Can. Keep. Breathing.

I can't get any control. Of my feelings, of my mind, of my heart. I just keep moving into the next moment wishing I could be swallowed up by the universe. Moments I just want to go numb.

There are times when I want to drink so much I block out all the thoughts zigzagging through my brain. Even after everything I am so tempted by a bottle of booze that I succumb to it, just to feel nothing. Just to burn with the feeling of nothing.

There are the moments I feel like I'm buried alive. Where I can't even breathe. Where the weight pressing down on my chest is too much. I can't handle it. I have to resign.

And it takes so much of me--to keep fighting. Because these days hit me and I have no warning and I'm lost before I even saw it coming. And I don't want to fight. I can't even remember the times I'm okay, even though I KNOW they happen, and they are the majority. But why then, do I still suffer with these days. With these thoughts.

I'm still falling...

Why can't this be over? Why am I still falling?

And I don't want to fight. I don't want to breathe. I want to be numb. I want to be left alone. I couldn't care less about the expectations. I couldn't care less about the responsibilities.

The trouble is too much. These thoughts are too much. They are crushing me.

They are burying me alive.