Waiting on a Miracle -Song Whittington

I would like to place a general trigger warning here. For those who are new here, all of my blogs have been vents that I tie back to the story. Most of them pertain to my mental health. If you are in any way, shape, or form not entirely stable, I wouldn't suggest reading my post. Also, this one is kind of yelling at the sky, so. Fair warning. 


     I tried to eat. I really did. I couldn't. I couldn't do it. My mind is not here. I wish this was something new, but it isn't. Every day I sit, one wrong move away from my mind flying off into the unknown. It was supposed to help. When we were young it did, it did help. But now? Now it hurts. Everything hurts. I'm sick of being broken. I'm sick of being helpless, of being one wrong move away from having a new headmate, another anxiety attack, a new depressive spiral. I'm sick of things getting worse and never getting better. Why can't anything just stay? Why do I have to wait and wait and hope and hope for some miracle that never seems to come? I grow more helpless as the days go on and I hate it! I want to be able to do what I used to be able to. To read chapter books with no problem, to have no struggle with "easy" school work, to go outside and run and play and skateboard. I don't want to deal with pain in my legs, to need crutches, to have people look at me with pity. I don't want to constantly be fighting others inside my mind. I don't want to have to worry about getting attached to shows or characters for fear of them being pulled from their home into this horrible life I lead. I want to be normal! 

    But I'm not, I'm not normal. I can't be. There is no going back from what my past has done to me. I can wait, and hope, and pray and cry all I want...but there is no miracle for me, for us. There will be no normal for us ever. I'm not even the host writing this. The brain created me this past Friday from literally a dream we had. Yet, I feel all of this anguish. We aren't normal, we haven't ever been really. So, why does it hurt so much? 

    Gregor knew. He understood, but he never excepted it. He died before he could. It seems that way, at least. He wanted to provide for his family, no matter what it cost him. He wanted to be anything but a burden. He gets transformed into this humongous insect and what does he do? He worries about losing his job! About not being able to go to work, about not being able to provide for his family. He's concerned about, quite literally, everyone but himself. I hate to realize that our system proves the same. We have nearly no self-preservation when it comes down to choosing between ourselves and someone else. There's no hesitation, we always help, even if it hurts us. 

    There is no miracle for Gregor and I fear that the system is too late for a miracle. 

-Shadow


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