I FEEL IT
I feel it, just behind me, whispering in my ear treacherous and deceitful words, plaguing me with dark thoughts.
I feel it, reaching in through my back, gripping my lungs, extending up into my arms, trying to take control. I grit my teeth, I hold on tight, I try not vomit, still it persists. How long do I have to hang on? How long will this bout last?
I feel it, like a change in pressure before a storm. However, it is so much more, so much worse. As unpredictable as nature, it swells and manifests like a tornado, always in the same varying degrees. Sometimes it’s just straight line winds or an F1...but then there’s times such as this when it its a mile wide, as far as you can see and inescapable, so massive that you cannot maneuver around it, you just have to weather it as it churns like a blender and sunders your calm.
I feel it winning. I feel my knees buckling from the weight and my stomach sour. And the worst part of all? No one can see it but you, this black cloud, this shadow with a stranglehold on your neck, choking you slightly, just enough to make you wonder if this is it. It is quacking fear and anger jolting through body in waves, unrelenting, crippling. It wants victory, even just a little, even if you only breakdown or cancel plans for the evening, that’s all it needs. A battle of attrition, to see which side dissipates first, the other growing stronger. It is a game played for life with no rules on location or time, the difficulty being random, even from start to finish of the wave.
I feel it, swallowing me up, compelling me to seek any form of pain to remind myself I’m still there, urging me to drink so that I can numb the terror. It seeks out old wounds, physical or mental, and gnaws at them, scratches the scars, makes you cringe with ghosts and grief.
I feel it, just behind me, whispering in my ear treacherous and deceitful words, plaguing me with dark thoughts.
I feel it, reaching in through my back, gripping my lungs, extending up into my arms, trying to take control. I grit my teeth, I hold on tight, I try not vomit, still it persists. How long do I have to hang on? How long will this bout last?
I feel it, like a change in pressure before a storm. However, it is so much more, so much worse. As unpredictable as nature, it swells and manifests like a tornado, always in the same varying degrees. Sometimes it’s just straight line winds or an F1...but then there’s times such as this when it its a mile wide, as far as you can see and inescapable, so massive that you cannot maneuver around it, you just have to weather it as it churns like a blender and sunders your calm.
I feel it winning. I feel my knees buckling from the weight and my stomach sour. And the worst part of all? No one can see it but you, this black cloud, this shadow with a stranglehold on your neck, choking you slightly, just enough to make you wonder if this is it. It is quacking fear and anger jolting through body in waves, unrelenting, crippling. It wants victory, even just a little, even if you only breakdown or cancel plans for the evening, that’s all it needs. A battle of attrition, to see which side dissipates first, the other growing stronger. It is a game played for life with no rules on location or time, the difficulty being random, even from start to finish of the wave.
I feel it, swallowing me up, compelling me to seek any form of pain to remind myself I’m still there, urging me to drink so that I can numb the terror. It seeks out old wounds, physical or mental, and gnaws at them, scratches the scars, makes you cringe with ghosts and grief.