The Hostage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

The personification of my depression

I guess there always comes a point where one can't quite hold it in anymore. A point where the Mind takes over and completely engulfs you.

The real me in that moment is taken hostage by the Mind. My hands and feet are bound in such a way, that I'm like a full pig sitting in the middle of the dinner table. Just waiting to be butchered for dinner. I'm blinded by a large sac thrown over my head. The sac feels as if it weighs more than I do. Noise canceling headphones are draped on my ears restricting every chance sound has of making its way to my ear.

Just like any other hostage situation where the captor tries to break the hostage; I'm beaten to a pulp.

"You are a failure."

"You are a disappointment."

"A degree in Psychology is pointless."

"You can't even afford that tank of gas, what are you doing??"

"Remember that thing you did back in 2015?"

"Or that time back in 2014?"

"Or the time you hit your brother?"

"Or the time you yelled at your mother?"

"Remember all the things that happened Sophomore year?"

"You can't serve a mission."

"You're not worthy of love."

"You're not worthy of anything."

They come just as swift and bone crushing as a left hook to the jaw. Almost as if in a blink of an eye, you've been hit by three buses and trampled by two scores of horses. Like a few shot gun shots to the heart.

It rips you apart. Piece by stupid freaking piece. One moment you feel sort of whole and the next you're trying to figure out where the hell your arm, left eye, and right big toe went.

Your soul gets eaten alive by the demons that surround you constantly. You even begin to name them, because it just seems fitting since they've been around for so long.

"Huh, back again I see, Kevin?"

"What's crackin' today, Marsha? Oh right, me."

"What in the heavens do you need today, Bradley?"

But we all have that one that once they show up, we subconsciously know it's game over. That there is absolutely no chance in hell that you will come out on top. So you just willingly back into your corner. With out stretched hands and feet waiting to be bound, blinded, deafened, and beaten.

Ready for the kicker? The funniest part? That's only what happens on the inside. It's the outside that scares me.

You merely just exist once the Mind takes over. You don't seem to have a soul. You don't show emotion. Your eyes and face become so insanely heavy they feel like they're sinking into the floor.

"Are you alright?"

That freaking question. That damn question. It begs an answer. Be polite. Just tell them you're fine. You're just tired. It's not like anyone cares much anyway. They're just asking to be a decent human.

"I'm fine, just tired is all."

It's not a complete lie. You ARE tired. Just not in the normal tired sense. You're emotionally, mentally, and spiritually tired. The life is literally being sucked out of you by Kevin, Marsha, Bradley, and the devil himself. Your energy is copmletely and utterly gone.

You're not the loud, annoying, obnoxious, bubbly, funny, outgoing, and smile driven poo head that you usually are.

They ask you what's wrong. They politely plead with you to talk to them, but that's just it. You don't know what's wrong. You don't know what to say to them. You just don't know.

And eventually you find yourself sitting there, staring off into space while you can hear the muffled sound of someone trying to talk to you. But you can't quite talk. You can't get your lips to move. Let alone your head to run in their direction in order to be respectful. You come off as rude. So you apologize. Which digs you deeper and deeper into your head. Allowing the Mind to win more ground.

Sometimes no matter how many times you plan the most perfectly thoughtout raids and execute them with pure precision. You still can't find the hostage inside the Mind. The real you; you can't find that you. But that's the thing; sometimes you only find pieces of the hostage.

Submitted: January 05, 2018

© Copyright 2021 Tyree Cyclone. All rights reserved.

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Oleg Roschin

A fascinating read, very well-penned! Keep 'em coming!

Fri, January 5th, 2018 8:18am

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