Throwback: Paralyzed

The self-doubt is crippling. 

It spreads through my veins with every beat of my heart. It lulls me into a sort of stupor as I retreat into the cave of false security I have created to protect myself from it. And yet how can I hide from the silver toxic in my veins. How can I keep running from something that runs with me because I carry it?

And so, even as I coax myself into the sleep escape, the fear spills into my dreams, punctuated by the banging of my bedroom door in the wind. The room is dark and empty, and yet my fingers shudder on the light switch.

I’m floating listlessly through a dark empty space, engine powered off, waiting. For a who or a what or a where that may never come. This wait is gathering itself like dark grey storm clouds outside my window, and I cling to the wisps of dreams from long ago. I cling to the fragments of my pillar of hope and close my eyes so I do not see the wind snatch my tears from me. And I wait.

This is all paralyzing, and my screams are lost to the silence that lies in wait for me, menacing. The phantom shadows on the wall smile at me from nightmares past, as I shiver in fear under my blanket. I can tell no one, and no one understands.

I feel all alone in this amalgamation of my problems, where things just keep going all wrong, all the time. I hate to depend on the people who are never there when I need it, particularly because I know why they can never be there.

Because even from the midst of the most desolate darkness, from the most parching thirst, I cannot call out; I cannot cry. I cannot show past the iron front, I cannot show you the fear that mutes me.

Fear, doubt and silence. So fundamental. I luck out and curse my stars, all the while knowing this isn't the way it’s supposed to be. But I’m locked in this maze of fear and panic, and there’s no way out but one.

The one that isn’t coming.

Written December 28, 2010