A Shell.

A shell.

That is what it feels like.

I’m curled up within the shell looking out and screaming. But I’m somehow looking at the shell at the same time. Still screaming. Help…help….help me.

Please.

I am crying and smiling, laughing and dying. Screaming and talking. Begging for help and pushing people away.

I am helpless, a slave to my mind and those who are in control have no idea what it’s like to be at mercy of something bigger than you. Stronger than your will. Something, you believed, was on your side is the same thing pushing you to end it all.

I clench my fists and slam them to my interior. Repeatedly I bang on this shell, that must be made of titanium, because I can’t seem to break it. Meanwhile the same person is banging on the exterior trying to free the me that’s within.

Help her… Help her… Help her.

Please.

And this is what is feels like…to be me.

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