Chameleon Keys

I think I just need a hug and a good cry.

I’m so caught up in my head that I feel can’t escape anymore. I’m aware there are moments of clarity but I can’t remember them. I feel like I live only in this moment, mindfulness angers me, it’s not a practical existence when you can’t escape it.

Schizophrenia would be acceptable reason for feeling this way yet dissociation somehow isn’t.

I’m so tired. Lazy? Depressed maybe. Lost.

I’ve given up. Someone’s given up, can’t even tell if it’s me, my head hurts.

Too many feelings do jumping jacks in the headspace, but they’re blurred out, unidentifiable. Hidden. Secrets kept only from myself.

The feeling of guilt is weighing me down, but it’s not mine and that makes things more confusing. 10 types of guilt for 10 different things, melting into a cesspool of shame.

A deep awareness that I’m not the person I should be considering the life I find myself in. Imposter syndrome in my own life. Only it’s not my own, not really.

Missing people is weird, I’ve always just emptied my brain of their existence either forever if they die or until they come back again if they’re away. Detached. Things are always changing, always morphing while old realities seem to lie forgotten like the memory of a story once told by someone else.

I just adapt to whatever situation I’m in at the time, what else can you do? Safer to blend, to act like you understand what’s happening, to camouflage into a circumstance like a chameleon hiding in plain sight.

I never miss anyone when I’m alone, only when the keys to the dusty attic of my mind appear suddenly in a random place and I wonder if I’m perhaps I’ve been on a quest after all, I’ve just been playing so long and restarted so many times that I’ve forgotten the objective.

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