Cliff

Things fall apart;

The centre cannot hold.

I want to close the door to my room;
the door to my heart and mind.
Alone in this sanctuary - even with no one actually in my room I feel suffocated.
Just the simple act of someone being physically outside my room leaves me uncomfortable on a level I cannot possibly describe at the moment.

I feel like grabbing a backpack and leaving.
But I am unprepared - all my plans require slightly more time to be put into action.
It's sad, because I know exactly what to do should I ever decide to leave.
It's just that I've been complacent lately, never actually thinking that I might want to leave again.

And the thought hits me that if something like this had happened about as little as 2 or 3 years ago, I'd be sitting in my room crying and hoping no one would notice.
Now... I'm blogging.
Staying on Tumblr and playing music so I can at least convince myself to breathe.
Because I never do when I'm stressed.
Something in my chest tightens and I actually forget how to breathe.
It sounds stupid, but it's the truth.

All this... It isn't an actual problem.
The shouting doesn't happen often enough for it to actually be considered a problem.
And as far as anything goes, I'm fine.
We all are.

But it's when it happens that I realise this is exactly how my life seems to feel.
Too many things below the surface.
Too much pretending that everything's okay.
And when trouble starts, I see exactly how close I am to the edge I am crawling towards.