My eyes are open, I am not seeing. My ears are open, I am not listening. Words escape from my lips, I am not speaking. I am losing daylight. I am shutting down.

I am seeing sadness. I am hearing whispers inside my head. I am speaking with my demons.

I am in a world where my past traumas come back to greet me. A world where my hopes for the future are fading away. A place where I believe that darkness is the best friend I ever had. I am hating myself. And I am content with losing daylight.

I still wake up. I take my meds. I eat and drink. I smile, talk, laugh. Underneath it all seems pointless, but I go through the motions. I trained myself to go through the motions. And sometimes I despise myself for it. Going through the motions keeps me alive. Going through the motions is the bridge that carries me from illness to wellness.

Sometimes I search for the version of me that doesn’t want to be here anymore. But I can’t find him as easily as before. I search for the complete darkness that will block out all the lights in my life. But the light never completely fades.

I hate the fact that I hold on. That I can’t cut all of the ties that I have to this world. That I can’t freely drift away into the nothing. Into the nothing, alone.

I hate the fact that I can’t let go. That I can’t stay up all night with hauntings and self harm for company. That I can’t shut out the world and crawl into myself. I miss those nights sometimes.

I left a part of myself in the darkness. A missing piece that I can’t seem to find.

With all that said, I still have a lot of pieces with me. And I will keep moving forward with them.

Whether it means going through the motions or soaring above the clouds.

The sun will rise. Bringing daylight.