Sunday, December 19, 2010

Holiday Darkness

The voices keep taking over. The tapes are so old and almost archaic… yet the message is crystal clear. You are not who you think you are. Louder and louder I hear those cries. My battered soul fighting for its right to breathe and heal. My mind is the enemy and my spirit will pay the price.

Exhaustion seems to be one of my many poisons these days. Running on empty has created a rage-filled demon that can only be exorcised by the Sandman himself. I am moody. I am plagued by migraines. I am emotionally charged. I am the living definition of depression. Once a month I become a fire-breathing dragon of feminine wonder… Pre-Meditated Suicide is more like it. Medicate me. Show me the magic pill that makes the sun shine brightly again and the clouds fluffier than they’ve ever been. Sigh… I can’t imagine reliving my rave nights…. I need to get out of here. I can’t find the goddamn door. I’m starting to wonder if there is even one built into this asylum for the mentally sane.

The joyous holidays seem like a scam to me. I feel robbed of something I don’t think I ever had. Yet I have the nerve to be angry about it. I hear the songs. I feel the snow. I see the ribbon and the tinsel and I don’t give a fuck. I have no desire to care this year. I don’t want to buy gifts…. I don’t want to wrap anything. I want to put the façade of Santa and his imaginary reindeer to rest. I feel the need to pour reality down their innocent throats. The world will lie to them… why do I have to be the one who starts it?? I am so annoyed at the obligation of this season. What once was the most beautiful time of the year to me feels like a countdown of fake Christmas cheer to reach a climax filled with toys and candy and leftover wrap. This is why we put rum in the eggnog.

At night… I wander through the dream world in Technicolor. Flying, running, screaming. I dream of death. I dream in fear. I see horrid tales of my once before reality come back to haunt me in my sacred slumber. Why are you here? I see him. Squeezing the life out of my refurbished heart. If only I knew I was dreaming. I might find the strength to release his hold on me and land in my bed. Having run miles in my mind, it seems my body does the work. I wake to find myself drenched in nervous sweats. Since when did I dread sleep more than a waking moment??

On any given day… I find myself floating in the curves of the highs. Then I drop to a new depth of low where I cannot even remember what the warmth of my own skin feels like. I don’t know what brought me here…. And I surely don’t know the road out. I am a prisoner of my emotional hell today… yesterday and maybe even tomorrow. I feel trapped and confused. Empty and lost. Living in a shell that fits but does not belong to me. The tears want to consume me… I believe I’m finally drowning in my own rain.

All of my optimistic logic has been silenced by the power of my own darkness.

1 comment:

  1. It can't rain all the time. My brother once told me of a native guy who told him a story about buffalo. We have no idea if there's any truth to it or not but it sounds good. Buffalo instinctively turn towards the rain because they know if they walk into it, they will get through it faster. Be like buffalo. I'm happy to try and be your umbrella when it downpours. I'm here for you.