Author Archive for Shardai Perry

08
Nov
17

Round 3

They help, it helps, the drink, it does.

I know its not the safest or the smartest, but it helps.

I know I come from a family of functioning alcoholics and I shouldn’t but I do, I do much more than I do, I work, I breath, I’ve even contemplated a future with alcohol.

Maybe the one thing were supposed to run from, eventually becomes the thing we run too, always.

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08
Nov
17

flashback

I was in the process of filling out a college app before I scurried away here to unleash. College just doesn’t sound appealing, maybe because I’ve been in college on and off for the past 7 years and don’t have much to show for it. Maybe because I don’t actually know what I want to do anymore; or maybe the finish line just seems to far away..

Do you remember the moment you started caring what people thought of you? I don’t but I feel like I woke up one morning and realized I did care, too much, that caring had been controlling my life for as long as I could remember.

Sometimes I wish I was born with instructions, that someone could just tell me what I’m supposed to be doing and how to do it.

 

08
Nov
17

2 in the afternoon

How do you know when you’re getting depressed?

I suppose you don’t know until its to late, until you are depressed I mean.

Its harder to get out of the bed lately, the kind of hard that doesn’t even allow your body to wake until after noon.

In a state of mind where I don’t even realize I haven’t eaten all day, and then the guilt makes me eat everything at once.

Its harder to pretend, Its harder to smile, to listen, to be .. to be here.

I ignore my own thoughts, tired of my brain constantly running. Fighting me, encouraging me to make a list to check things off one by one. I igonore the advice that tells me I am in control, I can change this at any moment.

I don’t know why I ignore the voice, honestly.

Does that mean I’m too far gone, too submerged in the “black cloud” to see or think clearly.

I’m going to see Andrew tomorrow after weeks. I’m nervous, because I want to be honest, mostly with myself, but sometimes I get clammed up, I put on a sane face to get me through so I don’t have to face my demons,

I suppose I can only hope that he sees through me, that he doesn’t let me hide from myself. An hour is only so much time ..

I want to write more, it used to be such an outlet. I edit so much in my head that before I even get to the keyboard I have nothing to say. I have to catch myself, in moments of .. rawness I suppose, when my guard is down and I can freely speak and think.

Like when its 2 in the afternoon on a wednesday and I’m already buzzed.

02
Nov
17

Theres always tomorrow

I tired.

I prepared last night, I went over my schedule in my head, I felt good about my plans. I wanted to get out of bed the next day, I wanted to accomplish everything on my list, to reward myself.

And then the alarm went off and I couldn’t move, I woke up every hour after that and just kept choosing to go back to sleep.

Its 12:32pm now and I just got out of the bed, only to pour myself a glass of wine and grab the laptop. I wish I could just put all my emption and what energy I have left into writing this book. Instead its exhausting before I’ve even started. Everything is exhausting. I’m so tired and I feel so alone…

Fake it until you make it right, thats always been my motto, to just keep pushing through. I’m finding it harder than ever to stick to that, to just keep going. I have to though, I have too many people watching my moves to give up. The Irony of how I can say I feel so alone and yet I cant give up because theres too many people watching me.

My mind is just flipping through the channels never stopping long enough to see what its about. Its just going, or it doesn’t’ go at all, and instead its a glass steadily being filled but never being filled.

Focus Shardai, Focus.

I’ll try again. Now is always the right moment to start making progress and progress is progress no matter how small.

01
Nov
17

Nov/Tuesday

Just when I think the world is about me, the universe reminds me its not.

We lost my aunt, unexpectedly, suddenly, and slowly…

Death brings about so much, evoking another person inside you, fighting reality and time seems to be a nuisance.

To swallow death is as to swallow your fist, where would one even begin?

I know one thing, I miss God. I miss Believing. I miss letting go…

How do you find meaning in life after death?

What should my book be about now? Now that everything seems so menace.

01
Nov
17

Why not start here?

Well hello there,

Its been quite some time hasn’t it, so much for consistency, doesn’t that ring a bell. I run from myself more often than the leaves run from the wind. You can never truly escape yourself though can you? Ive simply taken permanent residence inside my head, which if that doesn’t sound alerting let me remind you, it is. At some point I always find myself back here, trying again to let it out and let it go, at least thats consistent. I’ve made an appointment to see Andrew tomorrow, Andrew is my most recent therapist. I like him, I feel comfortable, like I can be honest with myself while he listens. Overall I’m just human, the same trivial problems everyone deals with at some point or time, but I need him because I’m… obsessive, I have a hard time letting go. Self-harm, comes in more forms than you’d ever imagine, and I’d like to stop hurting myself, torturing myself with past images, words, feelings, the past in general. In order for that to happen I have to open that box where I put things when I cant deal, which unfortunately is more often than I’d like to admit. So we will see how that journey goes, I am only allotted so many sessions, so I have to be honest and precise, honest being the key word. I’ve gotten quite good at lying to myself, sometimes I don’t even know I am lying to myself. Does that happen to other people? How often do you fool yourself…

In other news National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo) is coming up andI am ready to take the challenge once more! This time I’d like to start fresh instead of beating a dead horse, at least Darling my previous novel showed me I could write a novel but I don’t think its my debut. I’ve decided to write the greatest story I know, my love story; and along with the love story I suppose comes the story of I. I think its time, I’ve been holding this one in for far to long, I’ve got a story to tell, plenty of stories actually.

Hold me accountable, wish me luck!

P.s I think I’d like an audience, a circle of readers, I want to know someone is there as I’m writing this. I want to know I’m not alone… any tips?

23
Oct
17

left but never Gone

Damagedmiracle.wordpress.com 

“I thought I could detach myself from you, but no matter where I am you will always be apart of me; I wouldn’t be me without you.”