Sept. 06, 2004 - 1:20 a.m.
I find myself seeking a still place again. It always comes back to this, doesn't it?
I can forget for a moment, push it all back into the box, and lock it away. But it seeps through the cracks and overwhelms me eventually.
I find it difficult to hold my head up. My shoulders slump forward, as if this weight, this unending burden has become a physical manifestation. My sleep is disturbed, and I wake to find myself huddled, curled up, as if even in my sleep I am hiding from it all, holding myself together, protecting my vulnerability.
I thought I was safe from September. I thought that this malady would have left me by now. I believed that knowing was half the battle, and my will could overcome it all.
My will, that strength, the core that is esteemed by so many is shattered by the first breeze of autumn. This madness rides me again.
All I want is escape. All I want is to escape, break the hold this beast has on my soul and psyche. See with eyes unclouded, hear with ears not subject to white noise and clatter, reach out from a still place within.
This pain, I want it to stop. I don't want to be ridden or tossed or servant to these waves that leave my stomach unsettled and my heart wrung out, and my eyes bloodshot and blurry and tired, so tired from tears that seem meaningless, that come from deep and won't be quenched, that come from pain that I cannot name.
I tire of endless nights;
I want to rise above this buffeting wind
And see the light again.
Scars should fade to white.
There should be an end to this mess.
I should remember the pain, and not have to guess.
The landscape of this life seems bleak.
Reach out a hand to help a friend
It has its claws in me again.
I feel like such a freak.
I sit here in a fragile nest
Repeating over and over that life is best.
These damn tears won't stop running down my face.
All because I need a silent, empty place.
