So what happens when after enduring for so long this black, intangible,
yet utterly palpable inner shredding, one has literally become ‘a chaos’ unto herself?
This is the all encompassing chaos of disconnectedness on the deepest levels, of randomness, of plotless-ness, of mental and physical confusion and torment.
This is the real anguish. It is an anguish which, if suffered long enough, reaches well beyond people, places, things, or situations.
It is an anguish that ties you to your bed as if by cobwebs – cocooned - and tells you that this is where you will always be, and that this is where you deserve to be.
Is this how it feels to be some kind of embodiment of chaos?
This chaos will stop at nothing, choosing it’s victims and then stretching its cold hand right into your very center, clutching at your very essence with its icy fingers.
Your essence – the very thing, without which, you would not exist as part of the universe at all, the chaos will try and squeeze to death.
Make no mistake, this chaos will snuff you out.
So that you forget who you are. So that you forget why you are.
The word “Pain” is an insulting and laughable word for this state of being.
Pain is what happens when you have a migraine. Whatever this is it is definitely well, well beyond the word “pain”.
I know many admirable people, who have endured the ravaging of Cancer and its treatment with an amazing amount of grace and dignity.
I know NOBODY who has endured this kind of mental agony with anything but a deep and terrified groaning, an angry demand to the emptiness for an answer that never comes, and ultimately succumbing to the dark when that is all that is left to do.
I have had both of these afflictions and here is the truth: Give me cancer any day. Stick a fucking needle in my arm and pump me full of poison. But take me out of this mental hell I’m in. Please.
Surprised? Don’t be. It’s a hell of a lot more common than you think.
There is no fighting this one off, there is no battle to wage here.
Because if it chooses to this chaos will beat you each and every time.
This is a nasty one – and it is much, much bigger than your efforts to fight it off.
This particular one thinks that my efforst are pretty funny, actually.
Under this kind of oppression, there is no real companionship.
They have all fled, or you have fled them,
Because there is no one who can or will ever understand
this very personal onslaught.
There is no one with the wisdom and grace enough to understand,
That you don’t need advice, or to be told to “go for a walk”, or what your flaw is, or how this happened, or what you need to do...etc.
There is no one who will just sit with you, in silence,
Read you the paper, or your favorite book, or just be around.
(unless you are one of the lucky ones)
And that’s okay. Because you don’t want to describe anything anyway.
Because you are so so tired of it.
So very utterly exhausted in every part and every way.
All you want is to be alone
In the ghost cave