so strange how my human body has a timer. at a certain week every month, as if something has clicked into place, i am suddenly pulled with anxiety and depression. not myself, but still trapped in myself. it could be coincidental, but i want to believe it’s the hormones, the color of the pill that i crack out and swallow. hormonally, does this moment of my mental state, the movement of my brain, match-up with when i’m most wanting to write? (have i written this question before…) the body needs some place to go. i feel like i’m leaking out of myself, fizzing over the top. maybe the pill isn’t worth it anymore? but it’s only a day or two every month, that’s not so bad. i remember last month, the only thing that could calm my mind, late at night spiraling, was watching a documentary about a boogie-man and abandoned mental hospitals. distract myself by entering a worse place, remembering other terrible places besides my head, my room.
solitary covering
solitary covering
solitary covering
so strange how my human body has a timer. at a certain week every month, as if something has clicked into place, i am suddenly pulled with anxiety and depression. not myself, but still trapped in myself. it could be coincidental, but i want to believe it’s the hormones, the color of the pill that i crack out and swallow. hormonally, does this moment of my mental state, the movement of my brain, match-up with when i’m most wanting to write? (have i written this question before…) the body needs some place to go. i feel like i’m leaking out of myself, fizzing over the top. maybe the pill isn’t worth it anymore? but it’s only a day or two every month, that’s not so bad. i remember last month, the only thing that could calm my mind, late at night spiraling, was watching a documentary about a boogie-man and abandoned mental hospitals. distract myself by entering a worse place, remembering other terrible places besides my head, my room.