This is nothing but an attempt –whether it succeeds in its goal or not—to bring even a smidgen of light into a lost world that exists not too far from your own, yet so different that the mind which coincides struggles with the mere concept of ordinary; where its normal is far from what others experience. I offer this perspective simply because understanding is the only way for us to find a common ground in what is otherwise a rather uncharted existence, only one hindrance rests that may muck up this attempt altogether –that being where to start—a common and infuriating problem that often plagues this view; how to explain the workings of a mind that has no boundaries as well as no guide. I speak in waves that bleed ink all over these pages in hopes these words will come together and create something worth reading, worth talking about; but above all things help those who do not struggle with mental illness understand where the mind can go –and to remind those who do suffer that they are not alone.
Something happens, but what I do not really know. I lose myself in thoughts, ones I try endlessly to fight and escape as a darkness begins to consume me; paralyzing my body and freezing the world around. I fear I have become too in touch with my senses when really they have all but left me; all but the racing thoughts of negativity towards my very own existence. I become fixated on one particular thing; might be death, sickness or a fear –but it does not leave for hours on end. I am completely frozen and cannot relieve myself from it. I cannot sleep and what keeps me awake will not subside even as the lights grow dim and the rest of the world falls silent. Could it be paranoia? Definitely, but I still cannot help but wonder if something more lurks from within, only I have yet to discover the true source as to why this happens to me –I can only observe as it does. It reminds me that I am alive and yet drains the very life out from within me at the same time, as it mocks what energy it takes and time that it steals as I remain a hopeless victim to its force. It is depersonalization; where you are lost within yourself –where words never seem to be found and emotion feels foreign and constantly reminds of what you once were, only echoes as you continue wandering inside; confused and distraught.
You feel like a stranger inside your own body and within your own mind, as if something has overtaken your visual casing and have become a prisoner inside; floating above everything as discomfort reigns beneath the flesh being tormented. In sensing this detachment from the self-results in one of the strangest feelings anyone could ever experience in my perspective, as an unfamiliar energy awakens within to rule portions of the self, forming a haze of misperception towards every little thing; and in those moments materializes loneliness, fear and detachment from the world because I cannot relate as I wish and feel far from ordinary and since everyone can tell. Instead, I remain silent for I feel it is better to be silent than to be misunderstood entirely or mistaken as the monster I run from every day.
On a bad day, this suspension from reality can feel like forever, though realistically it is only a few hours spread out amongst the day, except the time at which it takes place makes all the difference and can affect so much more than just my own judgment or clarity. To be uncertain of yourself is one thing, but to have others uncertain of you can create an unruly situation that seems to only cause more fear and expand the range of darkness around. Being alone is best but produces the worst feelings of all, for nothing brings comfort in the obscurity that joins the slowing of time and the disconnection of everything you know to be real and true. In those moments all you want is to be held, or to be seen, helped or heard; yet you know the damage that will come in those efforts is far too severe. To see is first degree when it comes to psychological damage and I know that seeing me in the darkest of places would only haunt those I love and poison their memories of me when I am gone and have lost not only my mind but my will to live.
It is an odd feeling being uncertain of your own self and of the thoughts which you create in the back of the mind, that stir round and round until they are lost in themselves, repeating and then fading like an echo of wind through the trees. It is rather haunting and unnerving, shedding nothing but questions of the source of the sound that resonates in a distance that feels so near. The mind is left to obsess with it, of what it knows in solitude, but senses that what terrorizes within is but the mind itself, adding confusion to this plague that continues to pursue and pray despite our lack of understanding why it hurts us. It is a killer that feeds on the minds of many without any hesitation or sympathy, though what beast would be compassionate when all it desires is the very demise of what it purses in such darkness; a darkness where a mind could destroy itself without ever recognizing the fact that what it reduces to ash is but the very thing that brought it to life.
Poem by the author of this story
In this night so grim and lonely, know me well
But be not frightened of the madness
Be not alarmed of what I tell;
Yet no matter what I speak, silence shadows
Eyes gaze at me in a ponder
Of the words too tough to swallow
If indeed I choose to declare, who will hear thee
Those impressions of a sickness
The true foundation of me.
By the person that I am, be not misled
For behind what I express
Beneath the lies to which I’ve fed;
Be there someone else far trapped –lost in fright
Once a man with confidence,
now a mirror of the night
just this reflection of darkness, nothing more
maybe similar to something
now far different from before
follow him at @bleedingink.rf