The cloak of darkness is beginning to wrap its cold, familiar arms around me. From the moment the psychiatrist saw through my chipper facade and recognised that I was flat, it was like the air rushed out of me like an untied balloon.
My bed beckoned. My practiced smile fell off. Things that needed doing were of no consequence any longer. A flick of a switch and I succumbed to that familiar agony of despair. The bitter sweet acknowledgement – I’m not going to fight it anymore and the pain and bleakness that seeped up from every pore in my body.
How can I feel so alone and lost again? How can I have failed again?
I am taking the extra medication but I’m fed up with relying on pills.
I don’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone to have any responsibilities. What little energy I have left is angry.
The news. The media is full of stories that trigger me. It hurts me so badly. Hot knives going into my heart and eyes. When will it stop? I can’t escape the misery. I can’t be free of my history. Too much suffering and injustice – too many cases like mine. So many opinions. My headaches – I want to scream – EVERYBODY STOP! JUST STOP PLEASE ! I JUST NEED SOME PEACE!