Ghosts and seeing until the end

I think I have pink eye. Pink I.

I need to get my life back. Now I Can't see straight which seems fitting since I can't see the light at the end of this tunnel. I don't know who I am anymore.

Nothing makes sense to me and I don't want it to anymore. I just want my life back. I don't know who I am. And I Don't want to know. I just want a new me.

No one can get close to me. Because I am as vacant and vapid as the air that surrounds me. Nothing bounces off me, it just goes through me and changes me as it goes. Nice thought huh? to be completely permeable by anything that wants to enter and exit on its own time and need?

My heart is broken in a million pieces. My life consumed by the lack of....anything meaningful left. Nothing exists for me right now. Just this painful pit of crap and bile that just won't stop burning me.

Everyone gets to decide what happens to me and in the end I lost control a long long time ago I just didn't know it.

I am sorry if none of this is making sense. Honestly I am.

I have been listening to NIN Ghost release tonight which is like a serious stream of consciousness string of music. I feel like I am riding it. The music and it sort of compels me to feel or write whatever it is I touch on in my thoughts.

I want my life back and I can't seem to get the strenght together to try to make a stand. To defend myself would be like trying to overcome a great barrier without knowing where it is or how big it is. I am living rather blindly and uninspired now since the loss of our baby. It is like when it left, I left too. It was all I wanted and all I had for those few weeks that actually made sense in my whole life. Ridiculous I know. I think I am too sensitive. Too Tender to be allowed to continue living.

Whenever I feel something, I feel it so intensely. When something touches me now, it touches me so incredibly, so deeply. Sometimes I lay in bed thinking of each thing that I can in turn until it hurts then I move on to the next thing. And when I think I can't take even another second of the sorrow or pain...I think of the loss of our baby. And I think hard on it. I let the loss tear at my skin and rip open and out my heart. And then, I empty my brain and the nothingness of the torn flesh and destroyed soul just bleeds and puts me to sleep.

I like the activity of making it hurt. So badly, in progression so that I feel each level like I am supposed to. I let the death of a friend, the loss of a pet, or the destruction something open up and burn. I carefully choose each thought for its precise ability to bring about the next level of pain. There are not random thoughts when I am practicing this mental exercise. Torture really but I works well for me I think. I makes me feel it all. Without anyone else telling me how I should feel. Especially the loss of our baby. I want to hover in that pain. I don't want anyone else telling me how I should feel about it. I want to be consumed by it. The loss, the panic. the saddness, the fear, the lonliness. All of it. Each in turn. Piece by piece. Bit by bit. Not all at once. Not like it was a week ago. But, incrementally. I want to go deep and see how close to the bottom of the feelings I can get.

This is sickness I know. There isn't anything to replace this activity right now. I just want to feel it all. Each pin prick and each heart break. Each piece of my life falling away. Until there is simply nothing left to feel. Nothing left. Nothing.

God Help me. I miss my baby.