My woes surround me from all directions, as I walk down the same lane each day. I stop for a while and the cloud of stress swallows me whole. There was a time when I could see the light through it all, but now, all I see is smoke. Smoke from the fire that burns my ambitions, smoke from the fire that burns my dreams, as I doubt anything and everything. I write my name and check the spellings, I use a calculator to add 2 and 2. My boggart follows me wherever I go, and even laughter cannot make it disappear. It changes forms but never leaves.
Death scares me but not my own, it is the fear of losing more and more. I look at the ones I love, and think when they will leave, and cry because they surely will. I think of letting go every time I stand on the edge holding the letter, but the screams of terror stop me. So I turn back every time, and return to the darkness once more. The boggart follows.
I laugh, cry and also smile but it all comes with the tick of the stopwatch. I lay in bed every night putting it all together for the next day. I plan each step and predict the outcomes. However, there are things that I cannot predict and they just get the best of me, as I lay helpless going through it all over again. I feel sick all the time but the thermometer doesn’t show it.
I dive into pages of fantasies and stay with the people that comfort me. I put the earphones in so that the world can stay out for a while. The tunes I hum on the subway are always the same because I like the tune of familiarity. I walk with the heavy mask of pretense and keep it on the whole day. It helps me walk by without being recognized for what I really am inside.
My fear of the unknown and uncertain does not let me step forward. I don’t dream about the future, I only count my fears of it. Everything repeats as I open my eyes each day, which is funny, because I don’t remember closing them. I spend my time thinking and re-thinking everything that I think. They ask me a yes/no question, and I answer with a maybe, for I see the dark in every white and the glass always remains empty.
Photo by Fernando Cabral on Pexels.com
Not from Venus 
Deep and very well written. This probably is what a person going through chronic anxiety goes through. A tough time and state to be in.. The mask of pretense discussed in this article seems so real!! There are many people out there feeling this way, all we can do is pray for them. As they say “There’s a hidden emotion under that yellow smiling emoji!”.
LikeLiked by 1 person