The ache that I feel is deep. I cannot seem to find the words to truly describe it. It centers around my solar plexus, and oozes out. My bones burn from the heat of it.
The choices I have made as of late, reflects a unsatisfied hunger. It isn't a secret, that I hate how my life has turned out. I hate my divorced self. I hate the body that I live in. This hatred has given rise to an attitude of not really giving any fucks about extra curricular activities I have found myself engaged in. It is as if, I am an outsider looking in. I don't recognize the scenes I find myself in.
My battered and bruised emotional state appears to invite chaos. I get high off the chaos. It is dangerous. Yet, I continue to go back to it, more and more. I don't know how to kick this habit. I can feel myself going through withdrawal. I cry and thrash, and feel dead. The worthlessness that I have been called, feels very real.
So, I suppose in the meantime, I will continue to engage with whatever presents itself as an option, be it unhealthy or not. I can't seem to help it. Again, because I am worthless.
