In A Hollow Place

Nothing’s been going on in my head lately. Again. For the nth time. I have a feeling that this is going to turn into another one of those “empty-trips” that happen to seize me on certain random days. I’ve been through this more times than I can count now, and I guess in this case that’s a good thing because it means I already know that I can survive it (because I have survived). Still, I can’t help but be afraid of it, mainly because of that irrational sensation of the experience being endless when you’re going through it. I also know that this is just a symptom of the undiagnosed Borderline Personality Disorder I have, but even the simple knowledge of these things add to the pressure of being able to tough it out & sit through it & emerge with less scars than last time. It also fucking sucks, because when I’m like this, I can’t write anything. That in itself is a nightmare, but it gets worse: when I can’t write, it usually comes as a package with not being able to think. This is bad news, because there is a fuckload of schoolwork to be done (what with the midterm coming up), and this semester I wanted to try actually putting in an active effort instead of just blabbering my way through everything.. With this state of mind (being?), though, I can kiss that hope goodbye. Oh god, my issues have got to be dealt with sooner or later; I’m too stupid and insecure to go on this way.

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