I'm not exactly sure why, but today I feel broken.
Something inside of me feels not-quite-right.
There are a lot of things it could be. I've narrowed the list down to a few different things. Perhaps it's all of them combined. Sorry for the vagueblogging. The point is the title - broken crayons still colour the same.
I'm still me.
I may not do the same things I usually do.
I may not chatter as much as I usually do.
I may not engage as much as I usually do.
But I'm still here, still me, and still want to be heard, held, talked to, listened to.
I still WANT to do everything, but I can't.
Days like today are the days where I hide out in my bedroom and write and smoke and cry (or not - that one varies) because I just can't take being around people.
Music is iffy. I can listen to it for hours, or it can be too much stimulation.
Feeling broken used to be a permanent state of being for me. For a long time, I didn't feel broken so much as cracked. I guess I'd started healing. But something has opened that old wound today.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. But in the meantime... just remember... I'm still here... whether or not you can hear my voice.