The Downward Spiral

I think my parents think I'm on drugs.

I'm not sure what's wrong with me.

I walk into rooms and forget why I came in. I'll spend minutes standing in a room staring into space.

I've basically moved into my head permanently. I spend hours down in the basement imagining things. It's like my own private Terabithia. There's nothing down there but me and my thoughts. I just sit on the couch and think. It's not even like when you're a kid and you make believe and talk out loud to yourself. It's just living in an internal world while the external world sees you staring at the ceiling and occasionally smiling or making a movement to mimic what's going on in your head.

My rationality has shattered. I'm softer now. My vulnerability has shattered. I'm darker now.

It's like a split personality. Sometimes I'm fun Rhiannon. Sometimes I'm cynical Rhiannon.

I went an entire day talking in the third person because I don't know who I am.

I've never been so happy, and yet, I've never been so sad. For once in my life, I actually feel included and have friends I can talk to for hours, but yet, never have I felt so isolated.

Like it's all unreal and it could shatter at any second.

It wouldn't be a surprise if it all turned out to be just another day dream.