Free Fall
- by Sofia Blue
- Dec 5, 2017
- 3 min read
You see, sleep and I don't get along very well. She comes to me when I don't want her. Yet she leaves me when I do. Sometimes she stays for days, others she leaves for months. Tonight she is not coming... And that leaves me alone in the dark with nothing but thoughts.
The "honeymoon" phase is over. Now that we settled and my brain and body are not busy sorting out accounts and assembling furniture, I feel ... hopeless again. I find myself not being able to sleep thinking about the uncertainties of the future, the mistakes of the past and the nothingness of today. I started to fall again. The same old question - what's the fucking point?
I'm failing on all levels as a human being. I fail as a professional. I don't work. I'm the stereotype I have always hated. A desperate housewife in the suburbs. Worse - I don't even have kids. Another failure. I fail as a woman in my relationship. I fail as a functioning person in the society. I'm not even sane. Anything can derail me.
I always thought I was stronger. Maybe I kept too much inside for too long. So once I opened up, I lost control. I actually stopped to think about all the shit I've been through. Funnier - I realized what I went through was not normal. This is the shock, you know. When you begin to comprehend how much pain has accumulated inside you. And to what extremes you took yourself, believing you can deal with it. Until you don't.
Then you will have to go back and start collecting all the broken pieces of this shattered mind of yours. You need to go through every wound, every heartbreak, every nasty little detail of your deepest fears and worst nightmares. It helps. It does. I'm much better than a few years back because therapy helped me understand where it came from.
That's not the worse part. That part comes when you realize you can't trust yourself. How much of it is actually true? What is right and what is wrong? What's real and what is just imagination or a distant part of a great puzzle? You can't trust yourself with that knife. Those knives. Because you know you love to watch the blood coming out of the wounds. The rush of adrenaline and dopamine you feel when you slide the knife on your skin.
You are ok today. But you can't trust your mind to know that will be the case tomorrow. You know and are terrified at any point you can hear this clacking noise inside your head. Telling you you lost it.
How do you pick yourself up after this? How do you pick yourself up? How do you keep doing it over and over and over again? At which point do you give up?
I read that some jumpers die while they're still falling. It is the terror and shock of realizing they're gonna die. But at what point do they really realize it? Do they fall hoping something will save them? Or is it inevitable?
What kind of jumper are you? And do you choose who to be? The one who believes? Or the one who can't collect the pieces on the way down?

SF
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