This past week carried more emotions than any prior weeks. Other weeks were filled with momentary bouts of anger, sadness, confusion. This week was filled with a constant slew of frustration.
Impulsive eruptions of tears.
Instances of distanced silence.
Needless to say, anxiety has taken its toll on me this past week. I apologize for the detachment. Underlying the plain stress from final projects, homework, track, and jobs one, two, and three lies the malignant discomfort of internal and external dissonance, a diminished D-sharp lingering in the air.
As I laid in bed, in darkness, in silence. As the room began to twist, shrink, and contort. As fear diffused over my peace, disbanding hope and love. Reality relentlessly continued to rear its face. Images of the past colliding with reality imprisoned my mind, thrashing it from wall to wall, as peace struggled for a twinge of breath.
All pounding against eyes, the dikes restraining the streams of agony to come. Overflowing, my heart cries out.
“Resistance is futile. Reality is always there. There is no more running.”
Depression sank its way into the pockets of my mind. Tears flowed across my cheeks, soaking into my “Thomas the Train” pillow from childhood. My reality is inescapable. My reality will not let go.
Perhaps reality is not to be run from. Perhaps reality is just what it is, real. Real and meant to be real. Tangible. Fact. I refuse to keep running. I’m sitting still. Embracing my place, Embracing my design. In reality. In Creation. In a universe much larger than I.