Tag Archives: life

Numbing Numbness (Life of a Writer)

​I can’t say that I feel anything for anyone. Nothing real, at least. 

“I miss you”s and “I love you”s have become so, for lack of a more unique word, empty. Hugs and kisses and sex feel good but not down to my seemingly broken soul. I wish that I could drown out these thoughts with the music and birds and kids playing and car alarm going off right now, but they whisper so softly that it’s almost like a fucking shriek. And I just wanna scream and burn away the painful words that’ll creep their way up my throat with cigarettes and the drip. But the vices can’t save me by drowning me anymore. This is the kind of numbness and disassociation and self confusion that I can’t fuck away. I can’t buzz away; I can’t smoke out of my body. Or snort out of my fucking mind. I’m so sick of being this sick. Was I born this ill? Why do my diseases and conditions have to affect me inside and out?

I miss being held and feeling like I was cured. But it only lasts as long as I can get used to somebody’s body and then the touch of their skin makes me uncomfortable in mine and then I feel disease ridden all over again. I hope to forget about this and read it over two years from now and wonder how long it’s been since I felt so hopeless and lost. But I seem to only get worse with every forgotten passage and lose articulation as time passes. 

I wish that he could save me or, god forbid, another he in my life… but I’ve been told and have told others that you can only save yourself. 

But what a fucking hypocritical cliché because I don’t have the slightest clue of what that means or where to even begin. 

I’m so scared, so fucking terrified and petrified that I will always have to self medicate to pretend to cope with so much fucking pain. I hurt so constantly and so deeply and it subsequently makes me feel more inclined to take it upon myself to dull it.

How in the hell does anyone think that they’re supposed to numb their numbness? 

I don’t think that a writer realizes just how much pain that they’re in until they unload after paper silence for months. It’s such a freeing entrapment.

I feel that I’ve made some sort of breakthrough yet I’ve just dug myself into an even more gaping emotional and mental whole. What a fucking morose contradictory art. 

I don’t know what I want to do or be. I’m afraid that I have no fucking clue of who I am, but I’m more afraid that I know exactly who I am. I think that the latter is more horrifying. 

How the fuck is this any way to live? How in the world is this a life?
~Megan Chruszczyk

Advertisements

For Me

Depression, for me, was crying with every bite that I took because it’s been 2 weeks and I still have no appetite and I couldn’t get out of bed even if I wanted to…which I seldom ever did.
My body was a ticking time bomb that was about to shut off rather than go off at any moment if I didn’t try to gulp down sips of water that I didn’t want- because that meant that I’d have to suffer through another day of feeling nothing. Hah, fucked up doesn’t even touch the word “depression.” I was so close to booking a stay at our nearest hospital. Whether medical or psychiatric,  I don’t even want to know.
Depression was sitting on my bedroom floor after seven benadryl and half a bottle of zzquil, somewhat muffled-ly hearing my mom beg me not to make her bury me
And then hearing those words replay again and again and again in the back of my fucked up head as I did even more reckless things.
I didn’t want to die, not consciously. I don’t know if subconsciously either, but in this case, ignorance is bliss.
All that I know is that I didn’t want to be, somedays. And I wanted to feel, literally anything, others.
Depression was hopelessness in THE most terrifying sense of the word. And clearly, that word is pretty fucking scary.
Depression was my worst enemy.
And my most reliable companion.

~Megan

I Do It For You

And I’m aware that the bottles don’t empty themselves
But I’ll pour it up and mix it up and sip on whatever that would be collecting dust on the shelves
I’ll lose you in my life if that’s the price that I have to pay for you to stop losing yourself
I wish that I could lie and tell you that I don’t love you more than myself
But I have to pour out something once more…
I love you more than anyone else

~Megan

Quiet Fire

I could hold as many grudges as I want with incredibly good reason, but then how in the world would I have any room to hold on to the wonderful things?
The look in your eyes says marvelous things, but then your actions speak some sort of foreign language
And your aura… it is like shaky hands
Just let me hold them tightly so I can reassure you that time is of the essence, yes, but so is taking life moment by every miniscule to grand moment
I am miss black lung and buzzing head
Miss enigmatic open book and big broken heart
Miss captivating eyes and busted sense of self
I may be nearly blind, but I see clearly in hindsight
And I don’t need 20/20 vision to see right into your soul
Don’t even waste your time on underestimating the flames of a quiet fire, because, one day, that spark from my touch will light up your life
I have scorched earth in my luminescent blue and green eyes but I have a soft spot for boys with a warm gaze who taste like cigarettes and don’t ask me to let them love me

~Megan

Shattered

He says that I don’t remember a lot about when we first got together
And he’s right, I don’t
I don’t remember a lot about my whole life, actually
I need pictures and reminders
Do you know why?
Because I was in a dark place for 18 years until I met him
Then he made mistakes and I was back to being dark
Dark places cause you to open ugly doors just for some light
You do damaging things
But dear god, I remember the exact date that we met and knowing from the moment that he and I sat outside his friend’s house to smoke that he’d be special to me
I remember how free that I felt when I opened up to him that night and every night after that
I remember how I felt and what he tasted like when we first kissed and how unbelievable terrified that I was because I knew that I was going to fall in love with him
I remember feeling love for the first time
I remember what we were doing when I looked into his eyes and saw how they’d changed; I could see that he was falling for me- I remember how warm that they were
I remember the way that his body felt with mine and how it fit like a puzzle piece and created the most beautiful masterpiece
I remember the inexplicable magic that came with every kiss; it never ended
I remember how much that I missed him even when I’d just left only a minute prior
I remember how the love that I felt for him overflowed my chest

I remember when the look in his eyes stopped being warm
When he stopped letting me all the way in
When sex became just sex
When he stopped trying
When he became someone else

I remember. Fuck, do I remember.
I remember feeling shattered.

~Megan

Trick Candles

Falling in love with me is the easy part
I know that my eyes are blue and green for a reason; they were made for people to see the world in
You’ll see my words as stars and make constellations with my thoughts and see my mind as a galaxy and you’ll all of a sudden be interested in astronomy all over again
Staying in love with me is the hard part
When you finally realize what happens on the way to connecting the dots, you’ll see that every path has confusion and I’m not good with directions so I’ll send you in circles
The universe is infinite as far as we know
And we’ll never be able to understandably explain space and time and I’m on my own schedule
Sometimes I forget that the world keeps moving and clocks keep ticking even when I put my compassion on pause
And that scares people
People would get bored with asking the same questions every day that can’t be answered with a single response
I’m not a black abyss but I light fires that burn out and I lose my mind over trick candles
And I have thoughts that are dead and left behind but still burn bright to the unaware
You can make a wish upon a thought but somewhere it’s nonexistent and somewhere it causes destruction
I’m the most interesting redundancy
I’m an unanswerable question
Love is a word to a definition, but words aren’t enough for me and actions speak louder but my vision is shitty and I don’t understand the point of it all

~Megan

Gone In Sixty Seconds

Everyday is an array of all of my worst emotions
I can yell and cry my goddamn eyes out
But then a minute later I can’t breathe and I am a statue and I just start to fade
He’s on the way to school and he’s in my head
I lie awake at night, drifting off to the thought of him and I and him and someone else and I roll over to find him not lying in my bed
It’s 3a.m. and I start sobbing and 9a.m. and I just want his arms around me
3 in the afternoon and I can’t open my eyes while I’m on the road but I just want him out of my head
He’s in my head telling me not to go to class
I can’t shake it but I want to so bad
But I don’t want to forget a single moment
He is the smoke in my lungs andthe shake in my hands
And the reason why speeding up on a sharp curve makes more sense than two plus two
I want so badly to run up to him and scream, “I fucking love you”
But he tells us both that it’s for the best
And I can still feel what it was like to fall asleep with my head on his chest
And I can’t, I fucking can’t  accept that he was just another lesson
Over a year of my life gone in sixty seconds

~Megan