As I sit here alone, writing to you, I find my eyes filling with tears again. Seems I cry so much lately. Sometimes the tears scare me for they go far deeper than I understand and they
have taken on a new depth that I find no way to describe. It seems it is now that my mind opens up and words flow from me that I do not understand.
This quiet world I live in is so silent at times it is deafening but at other times it rages with such a force that I wonder if anyone outside of me hears what I hear. Sometimes no voices pierce as
loud as many voices devouring my thoughts. Sleep does not come except during for a couple of hours during mid-morning. I feel lost within. Sometimes the ultimate sleep seems the only way to escape
what I feel.
Finding words to say what I feel seems impossible. They come and go in an instant. The wall around me traps me and I go inside myself for safety. I am so afraid to move yet too afraid not
too. At times my thoughts go numb, which matches my insides. At times silence lies all around and suffocation cuts off my reality. At other times the inside world is colliding with the
outside real world that it chokes me and I cannot breath.
Sometimes, I float away, just out of reach of reality—reaching for a place that seems so familiar yet it is not. Sometimes I reach out in an emptiness that surrounds me when all is empty. Fear
takes on a new meaning there. It is not only felt but has the knowledge of experience. There seems to be so much encircling my mind but I find no words to explain the feelings. I find myself
searching deep within the recesses of my mind for understanding of what is not understandable.
Time ticks away and I continue to write. Somehow writing gives me strength to keep going. Somehow these words speak through the silence that would otherwise have no voice, no escape. This maddening
world of silence and voices plays with my sanity. Sometimes it is as no one exists and sometimes in that non-existence, I find it would be so easy to slip away, to never come back.
Conflicting thoughts invade as though nothing else matters causing me to feel deeper exhaustion. To live minute by minute is all I can do, and sometimes those minutes are so long. Yet here it is
another night and I sit here writing once again. It feels as though the keys are my voice and the screen my refuge. Quietly words scrawl across the screen, not even the sound of writing.
It is like a silent world right now of thoughts coming and going—wondering if the words even make sense, sharing feelings that would otherwise not ever be shared. Silent screams like the ones
screamed so long ago. And those that come at times when I hear nothing else. In between the lines are words you do not hear. “Help” such a small four letter word that says so much.
I feel lost. Part of me is hiding afraid to be seen or heard. Yet another part wishes just to be held somewhere safe. Everything moves so slowly over and over again. My world as I was beginning to
grasp has shattered. Writing feels like my only way of existing. The world feels like an open trench ready to swallow me up. I feel so raw and exposed. I always felt from some other place in time
that was very distant from me. This is too close to me. My heart is crying as much as my eyes. I feel so afraid. This pain and these words are real. And somewhere in all this—I am real.
Silence echoing, yet pain at times stinging and in the darkness I cry out without words. Emotions run deep—deeper than even I can tell. Thoughts cloud my mind to this imprisonment fear is holding
over me. Emptiness surrounds my being; the humming of the computer seems so distant. And all I have are these silent words. They say so little yet they say it all.
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