I think I passed out at the staircase.
I don't remember lying on the ground. I was sitting.
Next thing I knew I was just motionless here.
My old dysmenorrhoea problem is back.
Where the pain gets too tough to handle I'll syncope somewhere. Anywhere.
I'm so used to fainting for no reason that it felt like I fell asleep. Or maybe that's just it.
I fell asleep.

I'm blogging instead of sleeping because I'm suffering a heavy dose of insomnia.
Perhaps thats why I keep cramping.
Stressed out maybe. Out of everything.
Even tho I just went to church in the evening.
I somehow know. Part of me can't be salvaged. No matter how positive I sound at the moment.
Or how I agree to that God loves me more than I know.

I can no longer turn back the clock.
The dead half of me is completely unable to be brought back alive.
It's just not possible.

I'm not home.
I feel lost. And alone.
Very alone that people who love me just
Turn invisible.
I know its an issue of myself.
But I'm lost. I don't know how to fight for myself anymore. I'm bridging on lost to incurable insanity.

And this other half knows she needs help.
But she's been so used to giving up, she doesn't want to try. Because when you try, you build hope.
And when there's hope, there's disappointment.
And when the disappointment hits. You hit even lower than rock bottom.

Then you wished you were buried 6 feet under all over again.