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#1
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It's like my brain is a downed telephone line. Sparks emit to let you know it's trying to pass information, but ultimately to no avail. Thinking is like trying to shove my way through a dense crowd of people who are all yelling at me to do something. It's not a group of protestors; it's a sold out Lady Gaga concert. Each person is yelling something different. I'm drowning in my head. My body is on auto-pilot, just going through motions it already knows. I'm paralyzed from the neck up, mentally.
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find me on allpoetry: jaspereyes Last edited by ebatts; Apr 08, 2015 at 08:12 AM. |
![]() Fuzzybear, winter4me
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#2
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Hear you...sometimes auto pilot is all we have (& you ARE functioning!) until the storm passes. Anything that soothes? Makes worse/better? Hang in there!
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"...don't say Home / the bones of that word mend slowly...' marie harris |
#3
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