3am and the point.

The reason I started this blog is primarily for my own sanity. It’s 3am and I am awake, as alert and with-it as if it were the middle of the day.
It seems my brain, with all of it’s amazing capabilities and knowledge enjoys picking apart the events of my past in an effort to either cleanse it’s self or push me to the limit of my emotional control.
A term I’ve used to try and explain how it is: ‘being held hostage by my own brain.’ Those suffering from depression/anxiety issues most likely understand they cycle – wake up feeling crappy, get on with the day, come home feeling like crap/tired, go to bed and lay there thinking about things that happened recently, in the past and way back in the past…

For instance, tonight’s topic is the time I felt so shitty I thought I wanted to die. Once I stood by the suicide phone by the notorious Gap in Eastern Sydney in the middle of the night. I sobbed uncontrollably. The phone would not connect. I didn’t know if I wanted to suicide or just wanted relief. I just stood there crying until I felt like an idiot and had to leave. I got in my car and started to drive away and screamed so hard that I thought my lungs would burst.
I never told anyone, I never said anything.
Tonight my brain is making me relive the desperation and sorrow I felt there by the edge of cliff, with the black waves crashing hard against the rock, offering to absorb me in to it.



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