Diary of Idle Madness, Perhaps

Descent - In It's Beginnings

4/8/2020
9:28pm

How long has it been since I visited that deep grey space that I used to live in so long ago?
Was it even that long ago? 2017. . . 3 years. . .3 years since the beginning of what I would call my eventual descent into complete insanity.
As of this moment, wretched machinery plays, and the thoughts pour in and flow without any rhyme or rhythm. . .

How long has it been since I visited the gray space?
Was it like this?
No. 
Was it worse than this?
No. . .?
What was that feeling. . . and wasn’t I trapped there?
No.
It was different. It was a different feeling than this.
That feeling was the beginning of a similar descent. It started small and eventually grew, until I reached the day where I realized that I was paranoid.
Anxiety is the common word used for it. A small word to describe a common feeling.
But the word isn’t nearly big enough.
The burning feeling in your chest of choking terror over nothing at all that stays with you like a godforsaken pall of darkness that will never leave. . .
What was worse still was smiling through it all. Pretending it was all in my head.
All in my head. . . all in my head. . .
As if that wasn’t the issue to begin with.
All
    In
     My
      Head. . .
That’s where it is anyway. . .
But no.I have to make this make sense. To tell the truth of this story.
It started there. In the store, where I was forced to pretend for hours on end that it was all okay. To be honest I’m not sure why that was my breaking point.
I had been doing it for years. Pretending it was all okay, pretending i wasn’t screaming inside. . . I was used to it.
So why was this suddenly the reason why. . .
Perhaps because it was hidden behind sweet smiles and lies.
Ah. . . yes. That was why.
I hated that place. 
In my foolishness, I held onto optimism, and continued to try my best, in all my honesty, with all of my naive determination. . .I thought I was moving forward.
No. I was wrong.
Yes. That was why.
Until then I had been used to outward hatred. I hadn’t experienced true passive aggression yet. All of my pain and anguish had come from actions and words that were blatant in their intent. I could read them. I could sense what they meant, and the sadness they sowed in my soul was always clear in its path.
In this sense, perhaps, I’m grateful.
Honest hatred is better than a creeping lie that draws you in slowly.

I was younger.
Stupid.
Trusting.
Forgiving.
In all the things that happened in that place, I was willing to forgive and forget. To give the benefit of the doubt.
To trust.

I was foolish.
In this industry-
No.
In this life, “trust” is only something you can earn after perhaps years of time and effort. Or through the most meaningful of experiences. . .
Or. . . So i still believe. . .
My naivety is still there. Deep down, I know that eventually I’ll still make the same mistakes.
Like an android, I am doomed to fail in all the same ways, over and over and over and over. . .
And over. . .
And over. . .
Again. . .
Why do I still hope?
Why am i cursed with this wretched habit of humanity? To consistently try and fail and try and fail and try and try and fail and fail over and over and over and over again?
Why. . .
Why do i do this to myself. . . why. . .

. . .

To continue. . .
It was then that I felt it beginning. Or rather, it had already subconsciously begun to grow. The gray space that would follow me for years to come, hiding in my shadow until even now.
I trusted them. I trusted that place. I made excuses. I lived with the pain.
That horrible burning sensation . . .
Oh the memory of my first true unwarranted panic attack. . . how the memory will ever be engrained in my soul. . .
Worrying over the smallest unimportant detail for hours through the night and into the morning until I would return to that same place, smiling again, hiding my impending dread. . . only to find that no one cared. Or even noticed.
It was all in my head.
All . . .
    In my head. . .
All. . .
All. . .
All. . .
. . . . . .

It would follow me from there.
Through my days to come, it would follow. In little details, when I would go home. Did i lock my car door? Yes. Did i remember all of my things? Yes. 
Everything was with me. I can go. . . now. . .
But am I sure?
Am i. . . certain?
What if i didnt. . . what if im not sure. . .?

This paranoia. . . this stupid constant worrying over little things.
It would grow and eventually manifest into my shortened memory.
My biggest fear. . . 

Oh how unfortunate it is for this to be my downfall. My biggest fear. . . forgetting and losing everything that this world has taught me. Forgetting the pain and sorrow and anguish and lessons that I learned in this life, only to go and move on and repeat them all in an endless cycle like the sad hopeless machine that I am.

To rise and fall. To fail
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over
And over
And over
AND OVER
AND OVER
AND
OVER
AGAIN-

This was where it began. This is my downfall. This was the beginning. I can see it all so clearly from here. Where it will lead is. . .
Is. . .
I’m not sure. . .