07 June 2016

Panic Like a Storm Cloud

Every day, everywhere I go, there's a cloud.  A deep, dark cloud that is sometimes right behind me, and sometimes ten feet behind me.  Sometimes I leave it at home, but it's still there, waiting patiently for me.  Sometimes it's right above me, around me.  Sometimes the rain it drops on me is the same as my sobbing, the air shuddering into and out of my lungs is the same as its heavy, wet breath, and my shoulders shake in time to the guttural roar of the thunder around me.

Some days I am consumed completely by it.

It almost feels good to give in and feel terrible.  There's a truth in the total and absolute despair.  The gripping feeling of loss and hopelessness.  The thought that you cannot go any lower than this.

It almost feels better than being constantly chased by it.  Every day, refusing to look over your shoulder, hopping to stay one step in front of it, trying not to drown.  Almost.

It's close today.  I could drop backwards right into it.  I could think for ONE second about any of the demons screaming at my heels and tumble straight back into the deep blackness.

So today, I'm not thinking about them.  They can ALL wait until tomorrow.  Today I am just thinking about how proud of myself I am for being in front of it at all.  Tonight I can fall apart.  Tomorrow I can fall apart.  Today, look at me.

Dry clothes.