---

That the fury of life is always stronger than the compulsion of death is a lie. He has put out the light, and the light has gone out a thousand times over.

He was two men. I have watched him sit still for days, in a drunken torpor from which it seemed impossible he would ever arouse. And I have reasoned that it was not his face but a mask of madness that he wore as he beat out his anguish on me. For years I raged at the futility of trying to save a man who was desperately trying to kill himself. I could never give up on going in and finding him and bringing him home.

But he was in a cage inside of himself.

We are all still feeling so incredibly alone. Still, as ever, not really able to find comfort or relief in each other. Our days seem silent. Sometimes I will awake from a sort of waking coma to discover that I am screaming at myself in my head; every one of my thoughts has so much space and time to reverberate around my head and heart - for there is an emptiness in them both that seems completely permanent. Pockets of me that I didn't know he had filled, that i hadn't even wanted him to fill, are now just gaping black nothings. This seems to be endless. I feel as if i am simply floating through darkness. Inside me there is a great crack, a chasm of such enormity breaking my heart apart from the rest of my insides.

Now I feel trapped. Still raging, inwards.

How am I going to do this? 

"fragment"

If I lean, if I lean in
So close to you
Can I breathe, can I breathe
I don't know so far from home
I'm tired of, I'm tired of being
Cautious oh it aches and
The only thing cautious now's
My hand not to break you

I cannot promise any of the things I want to
But I could not want this any fragment more than I do

I don't know, I don't know how
To read what you give me
Say "I'm tired, I'm tired of being lonely"
Spell it for me

If I lean, if I lean in
So close to you
I want to know there's no space
Between me and you

I cannot promise any of the things I want to
But I could not want this any fragment more than I do

Oh, what to call this
Tell me how I'm supposed to touch you
I could not want this
Any fragment more than I do
And you could not want this
Any fragment more than I do

Time on my own has always been a battle - either getting it or getting through it. These days i do not despair but am afraid. I sleep with the light on. Sometimes i think, what am i doing, why have i let myself fall in love? My heart could not take another break. But i don't want to live like that, cold and alone. Love isn't weakness, love is strength, can only make anyone grow, be stronger, for giving or recieving. If nothing else, i hope i continue to believe this all my life. Those nights we sat up crying together, it felt like we were saving each other, it felt like love. But really we were hurting ourselves and each other in ways i am still dealing with. I feel as though i have lived through such darkness that i have the resources to deal with an astonishing amount. Some times i pray for darkness again, so that i might prove to myself that i am strong enough, worthwhile. But then i remember that i love, therefore i am strong and i am worthwhile, and that every day goodness exists and is bright enough even without the dark to intensify it. Still, sometimes the bright hurts my eyes and i crave that heavy black blanket to wrap around myself. I still have crying days and sleeping days. I wonder if this will be something that i always battle with or if i will one day feel that happiness is enough.

a release

What is this?

I'm crying and crying, like this, honestly for the first time in a long time. I cry i suppose but not like this anymore. This is good.

Tonight i've realised that actually, perhaps i ought to be embracing this kind of release. Maybe it's healthy? It no longer strikes the same fear... because i do not want to kill myself any more.

I want to live! I want to live! 

I can be sad, and be okay.

For the last year i have tried really, really hard. I have really forced myself to get up every day, positive frame of mind and smile set, taking opportunities and working hard, going to the gym,socialising and making friends...when all i really wanted to do for so long was curl up in bed and sleep FOREVER. And it has worked. I am no longer in an awful depressive rut, stuck in my hometown, drinking my life away, self-harming, etc. I'm out on my own, with good friends who are really good people, reading for a degree i like, becoming a person i like...developing confidence, becoming something. I AM HAPPY. Life is really good.

Recently, though, i'm having an awful wobbly. Every so often this comes along and i try and try to just quell it, push it out of my mind, busy myself with other, more important things. More important things than my silly old self, and my silly old thoughts.

But fucking hell, i'm so sad at the moment, and it just seems too hard to ignore. It isn't PMS, i havent recieved any bad news recently, everything in my life is as it was...

Only,

I'm so sad. I feel empty, disgusting, ugly, useless, worthless, and hopeless.

I'd forgotten what this was like. How did i cope?

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