Insanity is such an ambiguous word. You call your best friend insane when they get hyped up on caffeine. You call people crazy all the time, but you can never truly know what insanity is. You can never truly know what it's like.
Insanity is…slow. It's like wading in treacle. Every step is an effort, and though you'll get where everyone else is going, it's harder, takes longer, slow and gradual.
Insanity is sudden. It jumps you when you least expect it, and before you have any chance to fight it, you don't exist in the same world anymore. You exist in the other one. In your head. In reality. It all merges into one thing, one entity that you can't separate, can't even begin to understand.
Insanity is terrifying. It makes everything seem surreal and more real at once. It makes your fears magnify by ten times, and your comforts become so much more vital.
And most of all, insanity is permanent. No matter whether they let you out and tell you you're normal, it's still there. It's still lurking in the back of your mind, waiting for your defences to lower or the pills to stop working, and it springs, coils back around your mind like poison ivy, ever growing, ever expanding, an all-encompassing foreverness that burns and freezes and sickens your thoughts.
No. You can never know what insanity is like.
A/N: So that's the end of this cheery little story. I know, it's been a real laugh riot, this. I'm a cheery girl, me. Anyway. I've enjoyed writing it, and I've loved your reviews (I love you guys, I really do). It also seems rather funny to me that during writing this story, I was diagnosed with a mental illness. Kind of ironic. But it helped me write it, so that's not too bad.
Anyway, this is the end of the ride. Now, for the last time, press that little button and review!