crazy in the membrane

I find it interesting how different people lose their sanities in different ways. Some, like Hamlet, lose theirs in violent and terribly horrifying manners with bits and sprinkles of paranoia added to the mix; while others do so in unoticable fashions.

I am losing my sanity, and accompanying it is my patience. It seems that after all my life, it's at this point that the things that keep me grounded seem to be ready to abandon me, using the stress from life and family as an ex tcuse. Family more, it seems, is the cause of it, so as they slowly fade into nothingness, their absense is hardly noticable by the common and untrained eye. I am calm, for each ounce that leaves me, and submissive, though I'm far from that type. It's almost a ploy: as sanity gets replaced by insanity, the human vessel becomes submissive to prying eyes, seeming weak instead of crazy and feroucious.

I have not completely dissapeared as of yet, and until that breaking point leaks forth, I hope - nay, I pray that I may find a way to reverse it. I am already a mystery to myself, not knowing my moves and intentions as much as a stranger might, so to have to get to know me through bouts of insanity seem hardly fair.