Bipolar ThoughtsDepression

Fill Me Up Again

I feel like I am getting hollowed out, slowly, by the spoonful.

My chest longs to be filled, and before much more time has passed I will feel the emptiness down to my ankles.

There is a perceivable gap between my organs. My lungs inflate into nothing. My heart pumps blood through a vastness that can be measured in light-years. My belly is low and empty but not wanting.

I am fearful with every step that my legs will give way and reveal a vacant core, like a fallen ancient tree. But then I realize I no longer weigh anything; nothing for these legs to hold up.

I feel so heavy, despite that; unbearably heavy, impossibly heavy. The weight is almost entirely above my neck, but it can pin my shoulders to my mattress with ease.

There is nothing much to me anymore, but what remains is filled with the gravity of a fallen star.

That gravity and enormity helps keep it inside, helps me maintain an outer shell of normalcy, helps me deceive you.

I can feel myself being filled up again with hollowness. And at times it breaches the surface, spills through the fissures, trying to hollow out everything in its wake.

It tells me to sleep. I feel my bed is the only thing capable of absorbing its onslaught. But I fear that it feeds on the inaction, and I have given it a bountiful feast lately.

I have ways to fill the void; many things work. I helplessly shovel creative material into the darkness, hoping to slow the dissolving within me. When those run low or become impossibly heavy to create, I can begin to throw experience, research, reading, emoting, empathy and love into the vastness. When I have exhausted those things, it becomes difficult to avoid using materials I know will only make it worse in the long run. They might fill the barrenness, but it is short lived, and fuels the energy already consuming me from the inside out.

Eventually, there is nothing but that gravity.

The only thing I am is the mistakes I’ve made.

It seems unimaginable to be made of nothing, but also impossibly heavy.

But that is where it leads to. That is the deepest it has gone.

After this many years, over a decade of this, I still have no effective ways to stop this excavating within me. If it chooses to go on, I just have to accept that. My only plan is to not make it worse, not make mistakes. I just need to outlast it; attrition.

I know I won’t win, but my goal is to not lose.

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