
Dublin Castle


Red traffic lights tempt me.
They arouse my intrusive thoughts,
silently urging me to lift my foot.
“Roll forward, let it go, see what happens.”
Yes… oncoming traffic might stop, people might brake, waiting patiently for me to escape their path… But there’s that chance they don’t.
And then I’d experience the shattering windshield, the violent scraping of metal, and the deafening collision that the sick parts of my mind crave…
Yet fear stops me.
But it’s not a fear of my own injury or death. It’s the inevitable pain and problems it would bring to others. It’s honestly the aftermath for the innocent that scares me. The bystanders, the people involved, my family, my friends… everyone else besides me.
Which yes… this thought process is fucked. I’m already aware of this. But this is how my head works… responsibly irresponsible.
I would like to clarify that I’m NOT suicidal. I DO NOT want to die. However, I do occasionally hypothesize ways my mortality could end if I let it.
I’ll wrap this up by stating that my foot is staying securely on the brakes at red lights. Intrusive thoughts are just thoughts… that’s all they are and ever will be.
-Hal



Thoughts become embedded into my brain like thorns. They bury their sharp edges deep into the vulnerable seams of my subconscious, silently smirking at their inability to be removed. And they remain there, dormant in wait... Until my mind again begins to stir.

The words we whisper become loud behind closed doors. The walls ignorant to the heat behind our tongues... and the gasps between our breaths.

Within my skull lies a graveyard of those I've entombed. Locked away in the darkness, they'll never be exhumed. For I am the one now resting in peace. Far less complacent and bearing my teeth.
I don’t know how to exist as “happy”.
I’m realizing that I’m not really having any bad days anymore. Sure I still have bad moments, but the full days of overwhelming sadness and anger have seemingly dissipated. I know this is a good thing because no one should be internally suffering. However, I almost feel like I don’t know how to function without having to fight myself.
Don’t get me wrong though… I like the feeling of mental stability, but I still find myself subconsciously searching for anything to be upset about and I’m not sure why. It’s like my fight-or-flight mode is now panicking with newfound boredom and trying to find anything to stir itself up. Which is fucked I know.
It’s kind of funny though…
I’ve been striving years for this “happiness”. All the meds, therapies, blah blah blah… and now I get here and I’m not sure how to handle it. Now it’s the irony of “how do I manage to survive without exhausting amounts of depression and anxiety?” My head is something else…
Well… here’s to “happiness”. 😏🖤 Cheers.
-Hal




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