tuesday 23:59

depression2

personal blog: simon

warning! this might be triggering.

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I squeeze my wrist. damn. it’s happening again. the night. the damn night or is it the silence? here I go again, screaming internally. screaming the same old nonsense. ‘there is no air! there is no air! I am not breathing! I am not breathing!’

the room has tilted, the light turned into shadows.

“turn the light low. all the way down.” my father whispered and I curled like a kitten to a ball. my face under the covers until the air turned from fresh cold to suffocating warm. “turn the light off.” he whispered. “be brave.”

the scrap of paper under my fingers, feels rough yet comforting. squeezing my wrist spins me for a moment from my lungs and thoughts. flip the switch and reset. RESET! damn. reset. if only, I could press the crimson button to abort, to implode, to end.

I lose my engines, stabilizers, and like a whirlpool spiralling and plunging to the impending crash.

if only I was willing to lose, yet I fight for that last breath, for that last moment of clarity… and my mind is on the loop. yes like the cliché of a broken record.

catch a little bit of air. catch a bit more. exhale… and the violence begins again.

‘breathe! fucking breathe!’

then the counter battle. ‘you are fine. you are breathing. you are alive. calm yourself down. calm down. CALM DOWN!’

write it out on the scrap of paper thousands times.