Between worlds

I flew home from Denver on Friday. My flight back to Denver is Sunday afternoon.

This type of travelling is finally beginning to take its toll on me mentally.

I feel like I am living in between 2 different worlds. If it weren't for the fact that I know that I have a guitar waiting for me in Denver that will allow my to find those soothing notes that wash over me like a sweet lullaby I honestly think I would completely lose it.

I feel like I am trapped in between worlds and I can see the doorway, but every step I take closer to it, it moves and equal distance away.

I used to be an optimist. I fear my optimism is beginning to fade.

My feelings of isolation are beginning to become more present. Lonliness, my tormentor sits on my bed nightly waking me up at odd hours of the morning. Once I am aroused from my sleep - she leaves. Even loneliness leaves me alone to be tormented by the silence of being in a hotel - with nothing there except my guitar.

I hate the fact that this sounds dark.

I hate the fact that my optimism and witty banter has been replaced by despair.

I hate the fact that the safeguards that I've put in place to help me keep balance are collapsing.

I hate the fact that all I want is to feel numb.

I hate the fact that in 12 hours I am going to be leaving for D-Block (the affectionate term that I have for Denver... my own personal prison).

I hate living between 2 worlds, but not really being a part of either.

I hate the fact that I am powerless to do anything about it.