March 25 Shaken, the pieces inside of me whirling like the artificial snow in a scenic ornament of glass. Feeling cold, fragile, others may see serenity, or beauty, but for me all there is the whirling of confusion, disorientation, trapped, and so easily broken. Pain and confusion coming in all consuming waves, where with each building swell, less of my ability to reason remains and more and more there is only the tidal roar of grief in my ears.  When it becomes so big that it's the only remaining thing I can sense, and my panic sends me trying to flee, but there's no where to go, because it's coming from me, inside of me, the rising tide of pain, drowning me.   And all of me inside is silently screaming. The outside tight, fetal, curled inward, trying to make myself smaller, disappear hide from myself, from the sensation, yearning for oblivion.   As I'm coming down from my own destructive brain chemistry, I find myself, in hospital with the aftermath of an overdose, or hiding in the closet in the dark, or just walking late into the dark night with no destination.  Wondering how exactly did I get here, what is happening to me, how do I make this stop, this deluge of despair. How do I find hope again, when I no longer know what I hope for.   So I stay frozen, in artificial ice, encapsulated in my little bubble, my hiding place, with the artificial snow blinding me, not sure if I'm inside looking out, or outside looking in.   XO Katt  previous/next e-mail me! clix here to vote for my journal please  Recommended this week :   Come on.... just a little something, money for tea? for Christmas dinner? for toilet paper? for shaving cream? for a puppy? for oranges? for tampons? for paper? for Mr. Noodle? hooked on phonics lessons? for anti-depressants? For puppy food? For puppy kindergarten? For bankruptcy fees? for neutering costs?