I am Jack's restless mind.

"You can't fight the tears that ain't coming."

I've spent the past few nights curled up in the corner, ripping my hair out, and screaming through my fucking teeth trying not to disturb anyone. It's never been this bad. I've never been this downright fucking perplexed at my own brain. I don't know when or why it started again. But it's worse now. I haven't cried because I'm sad. I've cried because I'm pissed off at myself. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. Nothing is right. My moods are constantly swinging and I want to stop it but I don't know how. I want everything I had two weeks ago. I want to be happy and not angry all the time. I feel like that mouse standing on the flower pot in the water. If he sleeps, his falls in. He suffers. He has to stay awake to survive. Maybe that's overdramatic, but it's what I mean. Nobody FUCKING understands and I'm sick of being told they do. I'm sick of people trying to tell me how to handle it when they don't know what they're handling. I can't just go to sleep. I can't just be happy. It won't be alright. I don't want your pity or help. I just want to be left the fuck alone. I want to wallow and rip my hair out on my own. I don't want comfort or a pat on the back. It's not FUCKING helping. No one can help me. Of that I am convinced. I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry.


Back to wallowing.

Things have changed for me.

Maturity is necessary for the way we live.
Emotional rollercoasters.
Up and down and down and up and upside down then right side up again.
Parents teetering on the edge of sanity, threatening to take us with them.
Unfinished plans we keep remaking.
And "You're only 16 once." But also "Grow the hell up, kid."
Not sure where we go from here.
How do we decide what to do with what we've spent so much time doing and redoing?
I couldn't stand to walk away from everything I've put so much time, love, and care in.
Maybe I speak for myself only.
Can't leave it behind but it's not really a question.
Mandatory, maybe. But more like a request.
Like "I want you to clean your room."
Responsibility on our shoulders that we can't stand.
That we didn't ask for.
That we don't WANT.
The solution is simple, really, if you think about it.
GET OUTTA TOWN.
Incidentally...we don't know how.


Ps. I don't think it's a question of knowledge, I think it's more to do with gut.



Sorry, this wasn't poetic or pretty. That's something that I seem to have lost touch with. It's just something that's been on my mind lately.