Nightmares.

I've been having nightmares the last couple of nights. Waking up sporadically at 3 AM, and 5 AM. I can't quite figure out what it is.

No, that's a lie. I think I know what it is. I think I'm experiencing some form of cognitive dissonance. The madness that once crawled beneath my skin, whilst I sat quietly listening to sermons at church, is back with a vengeance.

There are things I want, things that I need, but am acting differently, as if I don't want them, as if I don't need them. Because I don't know how to get them. I say "yes" to things that I would rather say "no" to. Because I'm scared, terrified, of the consequences. I convince myself that it's okay. It doesn't hurt to do these, but it does. I realize now that it hurts me in the deepest way possible, and I think my subconscious is trying to tell me that.

The holidays don't feel so jolly this year. They never really did, except for the last couple of years. I don't even know when Christmas day is. I haven't really been keeping track. My days are disappearing into the weeks. Melding together to form one long, torturous wakefulness.

I'm starting to feel the nag that I am nothing, that I will never be anything, once again. And I don't feel any motivation to tell anyone. Who wants to bother with this mess? God, I  don't want to bother with this mess.

I'm dealing with my crave for attention, possibly in ways that are unhealthy. Telling myself that I can handle it. But can I really?

I used to think that I could handle anything, that you could throw me out in the middle of war, and that I would find a way to adapt. As a kid, I prided myself on being the most adult-like friend out of our group. People ran to me for advice, because I had experienced harder things at a younger age, and I cradled the people I loved. I held their hand, and I told them it was okay. It was all going to be okay. And I told myself I'm a big girl over and over, as I cried alone on the bathroom floor, with scars on my wrists, and a heavy emptiness in my heart,  that I don't need anyone to do that for me. But is that really true?

Doubtfulness is quite powerful.

Yet, lately, the more I experience things, the more I am starting to realize how childish I really am. I'm turning a year older, and I still feel like a child lost in a mall.

I keep telling myself I don't need a hand to hold. I'm an adult, goddammit. And I have no faith that anybody can help me but myself. But I don't even know where to start. I don't even know if I can do it.

I'm turning a year older, and every day that I wake up, I feel more and more lost.

The wall I've built is caving in, and I don't know what to do.