To come back I need to go away.
I need to go away to come back.
Yesterday I was thrust head first into the ice cold deep cruel ocean waves. Head held under by unseen hands, unable to breath, desperately searching for who was drowning me. I can’t survive underwater any longer, I’m dragged cruelly into the cold dank air. Head just above the crashing waves, barely able to gasp for air, swallowing salty water, choking, unable to breathe. I’m screaming, nose full or salty Britney water. Ears deaf filled with the cold crashes of the sea waves – echoing through my head. Pushed down again, head submerged, held down by strong unforgiving hands. Struggling to break free, I’mm held even firmer underwater. Sight starting to disappear, I’m dragged out again into the cold fresh air – it’s not relief I feel. It’s fear and desperation as I know I’ll be pushed back under to my watery death. That struggling is futile, indeed it seems to give this other being more strength and determination to drown out my ego, my desire to live, die, love, hate. I start screaming under water, knowing as I do that it will be the death of me. I start to seek the pure bliss of giving up, drowning in my sorrows as I know I should. And can.
As my life force begins to ebb, a voice comes to me. It’s hard to hear them over my screams. The waves are screaming in unison. Above the water and below. The hands never slackening their control and force.
“Give up.” It whispers. Icy cold tendrils of truth wrapping themselves around my heart. My soul. “You can’t survive this.”
“Surrender to the inevitable.”
I’m weak. The air I breath is scant. I stop struggling against the omnipotent and unforgiving hands. Stop seeking the truth behind the cruel fingers gripping my scalp. Hair stuck to my scalp. Nose and chest full of the cold heartless ocean.
I give in. I cease fighting. Look forward to the bliss of losing touch with reality and the warmth I will feel when I stop feeling. And fighting.
I sink further down towards the ocean bed, the hands lose their grip and I’m tossed to and fro by the ocean. Ever slowly sinking further and further down. I’m calm now. No longer screaming. No longer seeking the life saving ocean air above the waves still crashing over my head. The ocean feels like a cradle. Like home. I start to feel warmer than I’ve ever felt. More loved, at peace and one with the very thing that will be my demise. I accept the inevitable. The once unacceptable.
I’m at peace.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” ~ Emily Dickenson
An absolute gift at 6.40am after another night without sleep. A brain that has fleas, fleas, fleas. Thousands of fleas jumping everywhere, itchy, biting, scurrying about, tears forever on the verge of springing from the deep depths behind the mask I adopt. A madness within – always present at the back of my brain. Physically at the back of my skull, my brain is the darkness and forever throbs with warning and fear – “Don’t ever forget me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. No matter what you do, say or take”. To go there is to disappear. Forever.
Above my ears my brain pings and sings “Warning. Warning. Don’t go further back – only one step back further away from the light shining into my eyes and you will be swallowed by the swamp”. “The darkness. The blob. You won’t come back.”
This I know. How can a black lump be empty? How can my mind feel empty, hollow, a deep nothing yet still you hear the screaming, the crying, wailing, waves of fear that have a song of their own, a stillness that has a howl that only the demons of the night have ever been able to hear.
Sweet relief is when the screaming settles down to whispers, the wailing and crying turning to silent tears, unseen in darkness or light to othersWho are blind to your pain. Thank god others are blind to the pain – for to share it with others would be unspeakable cruelty. A cruelty I would never inflict on anyone. Ever.