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As I wake up, I feel my heart pounding. I didn’t have a nightmare and yet I try to catch my breath while the heart beats against my chest. No sweat. For a second I am relieved until my brain continuous to make an assessment of my situation, I have done this so often, that I don’t even care anymore. It’s a known situation with some variables. Sometimes with a solution, sometimes not.
When did my body start shaking? Anxiety wells up inside me and looks for a way to escape. Is there one? I feel fear and some unrestness combining themselves to a power, that wants to release itself. This power is the force that drives muscles into movement. Or do I move them to provide an outlet? Trying to hold down a dangerous thought and I also fear the answer I search for. I look inside of me to see if there is an object to my angst. There is none. I am relieved. To deal with an undefined reason is easier for me because my brain cannot materialize it in my thoughts.
My body turns around again, I want to lay still. I try. On my back, with my eyes closed I listen to the music coming from my mp3-player. Why doesn’t this auditive stimulus work tonight? With too much energy I throw away the annoyance and realize that this leaves me on my own. I am glad, because right now I want to be alone. The darkness comforts me. While my body seems to get more active, my thought settle and finally approach the important question. What would help me?
As my unresting hands move along the blanket, on and off my body, I feel how a certain area want to be touched as well. I don’t. Looking further into my desires I encounter the thought I do not want to think. Cutting would help. I know for sure it would. I could just cut a little bit and after attending my wounds I would have a good night’s sleep.
I don’t want to cut.
I don’t want to make a mess of myself either.
My hips move as well as my hands do. No sexual release for me tonight. Only non-arousing areas get to feel my own warmth.
“I am nice to myself”, is what I see now, to my surprise.
That is something rare.
My legs and my upper body move too. As if I would do some gymnastics in my bed. I close my eyes and try to feel what is going on in my body. Learning how I feel and how to deal with emotions is one of my goals. I do not fight the situation even though I do not know how to bare it. . my body screams for oxygen and my breath doesn’t seem to provide it. I am gasping while I feel a certain satisfaction how this time plays out.
As I wander through the dark metal corridors I keep thinking to myself this is as much alive as I am. I’m not as cold as this structure but just as indifferent. Grey where ever I look and the same artificial light that also shines in my life. My feet make a hollow sound, I like it. It’s wide and just as it fades away I want to tell it to wait for me. Take me with you, wherever you go! But I’m here and this oppressive ambiance doesn’t seem to end. I get use to it, I even like it. The walls look so innocent I want to touch them. Make sure they are real before they fade into the twilight. Just like the world around me I try to connect to. My hand runs over it but I hardly can feel anything. I knew I wouldn’t but I always try because I have hope that one day I will.
When I exit the tunnel sweltering darkness welcomes me. I’m home.
“It’s over,” I hear myself saying. Not that I wasn’t there to talk, even though I wasn’t in the mood. But my voice seems not to care what I want. I haven’t seen Steve in a while, in a long while, and now we were sitting in his kitchen. Me holding on to a bottle of water, and he trying to catch my eyes; but he wouldn’t succeed. Sometimes I forgot to breathe, and when I remembered I sucked the air into my lungs as if I’d be afraid of drowning. He’d turned down the music when I came in, but I could still hear it. We hadn’t talked or seen each other in months, years, I didn’t even remember. We never were that close, but we could talk about everything close to our hearts – and the funny thing, is we didn’t know anything about each other. “What we had, what we were, me, her… everything lies in the past I can barely remember.” I loved talking like this because it seems to be my creative mind that takes the feeling, outwits my thinking. “Nothing stands between us but also there is nothing.” This shouldn’t make sense to him at all – but then, he never should try. We’re just meeting after ages it seems; I lay myself open and then I’ll be gone, until he needs me or I’ll need him again. We don’t write or call, we don’t care, we’ll just be in that moment. I can’t even remember how it started, where we met or how long it has been since. “I’ve been through so much and now it seems she never was part of my live, just a nice picture I loved to look at and loved to hold on to. But I know, my synapses tell me that it wasn’t like that. I loved her, she was part of me, she got me inside, she was my life. My heart refuses to believe that. My memories don’t care; they don’t care about time either. We were each other’s soul and that changed silently, so now I simply know it’s over. There is no “we” anymore. We’re two strangers again. Because she changed into somebody I don’t know and I don’t care who it is, what she had become. I don’t even know who I am. I don’t know myself for the first time in my life. I am aggressive, more blind, weaker, fallen. I always knew what to do, and I had the strength to do it because I knew who I was and whom I want to become. I was fighting for that, I was fighting my whole life. And now I stopped. I don’t fight, I give up – something my old me never had done, I don’t care about me, I don’t care if I become an asshole, I don’t care about my future, I don’t care about anything.” I looked up at him, into his eyes, smiled and shook my head. “It’s madness, I tell ya. I am going nuts and I see it. I see that I make my situation worse, I see that it’s the wrong way I’m going, I see people waving and shouting but I don’t care. Jesus standing a hundred meters behind me and shaking his head. He’s worried and hopes I’ll return. I’m out of his reach. Even though I don’t want to leave him behind, because I remember being scared to hell of the thought being without god.” The music seems to comfort me. So I wanna scream and tell myself it’ll be okay. But it only gave me the closure to stand up and walk away for how long it’ll be this time. So I’ll shed my tears and I’ll face my fears.
