I hit it again. The day when the world is just too much to take on. The day when you want to just give up so you can cry yourself to sleep. The day when you want it to be over. I'm sure you saw the word again. Yes, I've been here before. Standing on the edge of sanity, peering down at my feet, wondering whether or not the step is worth it. Each time before, I've taken one step forward, gotten mentally ready, then stepped back, and left. I'm not so sure that'll happen this time. I’m not sure if anything will happen this time. I'm doubtful I'll ever make the conscious decision to plunge. I'm nearly positive one day, I'll be pushed. By my mom, by my dad, by my sister? Who knows. Maybe they'll back up into me on their own backwards dive to insanity.

Most people, though, don't jump to losing their mind like I do. They know there is a ledge. They can feel it's looming abyss below, but they're not exactly sure how close they are until they've stepped off, with their one last backwards step. I'm facing the ledge, my eyes locked on my goal: freedom from it all.





I ready my bare foot over the ragged edge. My foot is blackened with the dirt on the ground it's been rubbing for hours. Whenever I want to move toward the edge, or the safety of sanity, I rub my foot to the dirt and blacken it anymore. It's red as an apple with the blood from cuts riddling its calloused surface. I look at my other foot. It has the delicate softness of that of a dancer. Its a pure white pale and pearly with a small bit of red glistening blood on the heel. It has a glamorous humor to it while the blood on my other foot has a solemn resignation hidden beneath it's scabby exterior. My foot over the ledges trembles with an uncertainty that almost makes me cringe. I can't do it. I can't make myself. I can't. I find I'm muttering to myself. “No, I can't. I can't.”






My whole body trembles. I see the lush greens of the sane and normal world with it's soft symphony of being. But I also see the blackened trees coupled with the interesting and somewhat complementary to the trees dissonant chords and the soft hum a comforting tune to a broken brain. The comforting hug of being able to turn back later from sanity and the compelling complete and utter finality of the decision to make the jump. The sweet smell of flowers being planted by minds always whirring away to another project, the rotting smell of minds unused.

I want to step away from it all, corner my self in the greenest, best-est part of sanity. The part where there are always smiles. Not the grief stricken part where people cry as they throw themselves over. Not the depressed edge where people smile as the jump to safety and calmness. Not the stress-full, humming-with-thoughts part where I stand now wondering if it's worth it. Willing my brain to think faster. To just decide. To think to make itself up. To go. To do something.

And I wander. A meandering, teetering march right on the edge. The very point where one stumble could end you. I make a useless lap around the circular island of sanity. I run my toe over where stress and depression meet. Then where depression shares a side with it's other border, grief. And finally, I shed a tear at the line of grief and stress. I stand on the line. Not sure where to go. I feel them all. Stress with its sad bass line of grief and grief's close friend, depression. The thought of what to do better next time. I walk through the thin path leading to the center of sanity. Where the surest people sit and think. But my path is not one of sanity. It is the thin winding road of insanity on it's way there. I walk with one foot in front of the other, toes to heel to stay on my path. I reach the center. There they are the people who are the most sane. Standing around a hole in the center of the island. A small hole, no larger than a well but much deeper. And with no barrier. They stand themselves at the edge thinking. The most sane are the closest to insane. In the hole, there are tunnels that lead out in every direction. Below sanity is always a little insane. The hole represents all of the things that could make someone insane. It is the only part of the island where you can reach insanity with no restrictions. It represents the fact that insanity is only sane when it is sent from all ways you can reach it. I stand on the edge with them, no one questioning me. I take the step. Down to insanity.