Darkness-Never to be seen in the light.

What it is really like it live when your mind is against you.

The storm as it was; the lighting, the thunder, the pelting down rain, the crashes, and smashes and raging winds. The noises within, the swirling thoughts and never to be forgotten fears; facing against time, wishing that the world would just stop… and breathe. The self-doubt, criticism, and never-ending disbelief, never to be seen, don’t look at me, don’t let anyone see.

The pillow a tissue, that hides your tears, all your fears and wraps you into a sense of certainty that tomorrow will be exactly the same. I am to blame, I wear the shame for who I have become, the torment on my heart and the raging storm amongst the thoughts engulfing happiness and overflowing with sadness. This is who I am, what I have become.

All alone I lay without a sound, 2am arrives and leaves, sleep far from sight, mind racing, heart beating. Within the storm, nobody sees the pain it brings, the restless nights and the battle of the minds. Another day, another fight, it is all the same, I don’t even put up a fight; it is what it is, I don’t care enough to change, my life is already set in stone. There I lay careless, lifeless and all alone.

There I question, what is the point? my life never changing, always blaming and a thunderous storm. To die, to live, exactly the same, I am not wanted, not seen, cared for or believed. To give up, to give in, giving everything away. What is the point? what do I bring? Nothing foreseen, me important? Never, no way. 

A child you once were, innocent and unaware, the urge to grow and be something more. Now you desire nothing more than to revisit the time, the painless past where happiness was spread and sleep was easy to come by. The storm that visited, outstaying its time, tormenting, and ruining, gradually building in size, engulfing your life from within. A child-like innocence a gift no-more, the world a battle ground, we are at war.

From head to toe, inside to out, the depths of the pain never wear out. Submerged in criticism, the culprit being you; tired and weary, trying to be cheery. A failure and a freak, your worse critic. Day by day by day, your time is running up. Inability to believe, to see and to know, all around you the answer is always no, you will fail. You cannot see what we can see, nor understand the views that you can do it, but you always hear no.

A laugh, a smile they tell a story that nobody would ever know; to cover the pain, the tears from streaming down your face and the uncertainty of you. Nobody can see me for me, for who I have become, the sadness, the despair and for the failure that I am. I am happy as it may seem, a secret however looms deep below the surface, hidden a storm, the lighting and thunder and all of the gloom.

Author's Note

Please I hope that you like it and it informs you in some way.