mental chaos

The chaos of my mind moves around me, it takes shape in my room, my supposed refuge. I had never thought that my habitual disorder was caused by my mental chaos. I open the drawers and see the sections of my brain: messy feelings, unnamed, unrecognized or unaccepted. I open the closet door and see past traumas hanging there, decorating, occupying the space of other emotions fighting to fill their place. I decide to lie down in bed and watch a movie, surrounded by a topsy-turvy world. I'm not comfortable, but I don't avoid it either. The hours pass, I'm still in the same position. The day is ending and I begin to feel guilty for doing nothing. I can't find any reasons to get up. I try to escape reality by entering foreign, fictional worlds. They relieve the moment, but they don't fix anything. I sink into a loop that suffocates me. I don't breathe, and I let myself be. I allow myself to live on the edge, until one day I completely explode. There'll be no turning back.