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My breathing becomes shallow and fast, I feel as if I can’t entirely grasp the air I need. My heart is pounding almost as much as my head. The lights are too bright and feel like a tidal wave pushing me down,
down,
down,
to the ground and suffocating me under it. It’s like every sense in my body has been heightened to notice everything enough to push me to the edge, the colours in my room
clash and seep,
and the plush carpet beneath me seems to suck me in like quicksand and
drown me,
and the furniture in my room seems to
be larger
then there is room for. I take my compact mirror off the dresser, praying my reflection might bring me back to reality as it always does. But my mellow grey eyes aren’t becoming
clearer,
my brown locks of hair are growing
fuzzier,
and instead of my breathing becoming slower, it’s
racing
beyond my own control and I feel myself slipping and slipping slowly,
slowly,
away.
My last thoughts are too jumbled to decipher.
I wake again in a new place. This is not my room. It feels like a garden, vines cover parts of the land, and a huge willow tree seems to be in the centre, with branches reaching out, lost and untamed. Mist covers the secrets in the distance. Dark grey clouds rumble, but not one drop of rain falls onto the cracked dirt flooring. This place feels uncontrolled and mysterious, but also fearful. This place feels alive. I look down and notice the cracks in the dirt all come together to spell one thing.
The mind.
I’m lost. My thoughts tangle, it feels like I’m being shaken and tortured. And throughout all of this, as I become more dizzy and my head feels heavy, and I can’t see clearly, more cracks appear on the floor.
So I step forwards, control my breathing, steady myself. And the cracks are replaced with solid ground. This is my mind. And now, although bizarre, steady wind pushes me towards that tree, so I walk towards it, one foot at a time.
But shadows build up and start to follow me,
tugging on me,
dragging me
down.
Into darkness.
I run now, the tree is a haven, a curtain to open and protect me. I run through the leaves of the tree.
It is dark here, and there are things hanging off the branches, I look closer, and I see.
They are photos of me in every weak moment I have. And I hate this, I hate this.
ugly,
gross,
horrible,
disgusting.
The words come out of my mouth and surround me, my voice saying them over
and over
and over.
Every time louder.
But I can be loud too.
“ENOUGH.”
I hear myself say it, it echoes. Everything collapses like ash.
The willow tree, the floor, the garden, the shadows. It all collapses like nothing was holding it up, like sand built up into a fragile sculpture. I don’t know whether I’m falling or not in this nothingness. But I am floating in an endless black.
Then,
the blackness comes together and forms everything terrible. It grabs me, shoves me, pushes me away, and brings me closer. I don’t know what it wants.
And then,
a growing light appears next to me, I pick it up, and it fills me with
glowing,
courageous,
warmth.
And with all my might, I throw it towards the monster in my mind that has lurked my story for too long, and it hits the heart of all my fear.
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