Time is missing

It’s the time again I suppose. The time in life where I feel something is missing again. It seems to go in cycles – at least I recognize that in myself now.

I don’t know what it is. I feel lost and trapped in my own life. There are moments where everything is okay, where the little whispers in my mind stop and there is contentment. But they start up again.

At least I know I am crazy: I talk to myself in my car, by myself as I drive. I still talk to “imaginary friends” I suppose. It’s the only way to keep myself focused sometimes – talk through the issues in my head when I can’t write them down; well since I stopped writing them down, or typing them down…

I make up people or steal a character from a book or something that I find interesting. Then I get to control the conversation – I ask myself the questions and answer them and reason them out. I only have the “imaginary friend” to feel a little bit less insane; better to talk to “someone” then to myself…The logic is I would rather be immature than insane.

It might help if I ever left my apartment. It’s summer and it’s hot – for me. I get sick if it is much above 70. Add in that EVERYTHING is covered in pollen and I cannot go outside. It was so bad a few weeks ago that I sneezed for two hours straight and burst something; sneezing blood freaking hurts. If I go outside or open my house for fresh air, within ten minutes I start sneezing and have difficulty breathing.

I feel trapped in my life because I am trapped. I can go out and get sick, or I can stay in and go insane – talk to the dogs or the imaginary people. What a wonderful choice.