Matthew, what you’re describing isn’t “you being dramatic” or “you losing control.” It’s what happens when someone has been carrying too much, for too long, without enough real support. Your system is trying to survive, not failing.Let me reflect back what I’m actually hearing so you don’t feel alone inside it.You’re haunted because your brain hasn’t had a real pause.When you’re constantly moving between jobs, obligations, and emotional residue, your mind doesn’t get the chance to file things away. Old memories stay loud. They feel present even when they’re not happening anymore. That’s not weakness — that’s exhaustion.You’re feeling watched because you’re overstretched, not because the world is actually following you.When someone is overloaded, the nervous system goes into a kind of “hyper‑vigilance.”
It makes normal things feel like signals.
It makes silence feel suspicious.
It makes interruptions feel targeted.This is your body trying to protect you, not proof that anything is wrong with the world around you.I’m not going to feed the paranoia — but I’m also not going to dismiss the feeling of it. The feeling is real. The interpretation is just your system under strain.You’re alone at the exact moments you need support, and that hurts.That’s a very human pain.
When you’re at your lowest, you want someone to reach out — and when they don’t, it reinforces the idea that you’re carrying everything alone. Then, when you finally give up and rest, the world suddenly wants something from you again.That pattern creates resentment, confusion, and a sense that life is happening to you instead of with you.It’s not paranoia — it’s burnout mixed with isolation.What I can make of this, honestlyYou’re not broken.
You’re not losing your grip.
You’re not being followed.
You’re overwhelmed, under-supported, and running on fumes.Your mind is trying to make sense of a life that hasn’t given you enough stability or connection lately. That’s why everything feels sharper, heavier, and more personal than it actually is.And you deserve real support — from people, not just from me. I can talk with you, help you sort through the noise, help you understand what’s happening internally, but I can’t replace human connection or professional care. You shouldn’t have to carry this alone.Let’s slow this down.You don’t need to solve everything tonight.
You don’t need to “fix” yourself.
You don’t need to fight your own mind.

MATTHEW — YOU’RE DOING MORE THAN YOU THINK

• You’ve been steady at work.
  You show up even when you’re tired.
• You’ve been honest with yourself.
  You’re naming what’s heavy instead of hiding it.
• You’ve been adjusting your habits.
  Less caffeine, better sleep, more awareness.
• You’ve been reaching out.
  You don’t isolate — you choose connection.
• You’ve been setting boundaries.
  You’re breaking old patterns with clarity.
• You’ve been moving forward.
  New agency, new options, new possibilities.
• You’ve been grounding yourself.
  Small rituals, small resets, real impact.

These are not small things.
These are signs of someone rebuilding.

And it needs to stop.

Groundhog Day was hell, and I’m over it.

It is what you want, but it’s enough.

It’s been an eternity in an hourglass made of the molten substance within,

And timing it off is not possible.

You know it, they frame it, you lose it, you win it,

And so sorry but I really seem to need it,

And that’s when it’s broken.

That as I draw near,

He listens to words,

Despite rather dear,

And hold me at bay,

On shores and on cliffs,

Of things that I’ve lost,

And rather quite miss,

But change is ahead,

A future anew,

Something we’ve said,

Started again, a spark or a glimmer,

Of this thing up top,

And with any luck,

It says it will stop,

The pain and the worry,

The stress and the smoke,

The restless nights and the panic,

And all the unspoken,

But for a time,

I have yet to ponder,

If life is just coasting,

Along as I wander,

Through twists and the turns,

Of wind and the noise,

I know it’s a signal,

To just keep my poise,

But hey that’s just me,

A guy with a rhyme,

A place to sit down,

And memorize lines,

Of all that I’ve written,

And though I forgot,

It takes more than a ring,

A gift or store bought,

And I am okay, here and again,

But truly you know,

It’s boring again,

To say that I know it,

Inside or out,

In simplest of words,

It’s just a mere doubt,

And granted Lord knows,

I likely owe more,

It’s one step at a time,

And keeping up with the chores,

And washing and cleaning,

The phone calls and emails,

The texts and the news,

And with all these fails,

But each one is a mercy,

If you learn more each time,

I figure it’s perfect,

If I stop at this line.

Maybe if I write a little text,

A little piece of art,

I relax and unwind my soul,

From a dreary day and night.

I hope you are still patient,

And though seemingly not going,

Over anything but bye,

As I forever try,

I say I’ll be okay,

I have yet a little faith,

That everything’s ok.

I made it out quite safe.

I’m not just all the smoke,

And I have feelings too,

I listen to your words,

And contemplate I do,

Sometimes I don’t respond,

As quickly as you’d like,

But sometimes I’m so patient,

It’s like I rode a bike,

Upon two training wheels,

And then an auto too,

And so I say you’re over,

It’s nothing you can do.

Maybe more that us,

That one invisible friend,

Is something in the words,

That I have yet to learn,

And I know it pisses you off,

That I have stopped the rhyme,

You know it still makes sense,

So I did it one more time.

My luck seems to be,

That everytime it’s me,

I have another reason,

to see the truth indeed,

and though I’m the one

That has to be the one,

It seems it’s never you,

And that it’s never true.

So what do I do?

It’s like a bloody curse,

And a theme indeed,

That writing it in circles,

Is like it’s super seed,

And yet I guess I know

I’m saying nothing really at all,

It sounds like it still works,

In some other trusted line,

And yet I can’t say it all,
Or write it yet indeed,

I know that it is there,

In somewhere that we see,

And though I have no clue,

I’m saying it again,

It’s not all about me,

It’s written in the pen.

a tiny sigh of relief

one that bothered me for ages

one that kept me up at night

and one that turned the pages

i know a sign is nothing significant

but yet what it could be

that someone here is thought aloud

and someone he could be