Self-surgery

The page was crammed with writing, a sea of chaotic words; each letter hindering back and forth to find its place. The sentences were arranged in an unintelligent disarray. Berserk symbols were drawn hastily over the crumpled paper.

4:13am. The light had gone out of my life.
The night came mumbling sweet nothings, luring energy from her already weakened muscles until they could rest no longer. There was no trace of warmth left, nothing of the summer or the alluring kiss of the vanquished sun. The hours promised to pass slowly. The cold nights were infact the longest, or so it felt that way. Every night was a delusive scuffle of conflicting thoughts. Twelve o'clock morphed into one and then two and then three. The time ticked by, marked only by those changing numerals. Her mind was a violent whirl of paroxysm, trying to envisage the chaos of her life. All was silent around her, all except her mind. It played a tune, a rhythm; a rhythm that only reminded her of The Rouse. The scales composed of the unknown yet all too familiar voices, the highs and the lows and,the structure formed the phantasmal battlefield, warzone. She knew the part of the high note and, she knew the low beats. She knew how it ended up into a song; into a song she always wanted to hear, the song of her psychotic psyche. The misery ebbed along her veins and deadened her already-lifeless soul. She felt as though this was death by a thousand paper cuts, for every time she recalled her damage it was another cut to her already wounded mind. But none, quite sharp enough to kill her.

Life was caving in on her. Her head was too delirious. Each thought bounced around inside her skull like a disoriented swarm of bees. Now and then they stung. Must be hornets, not bees. Bees died after one sting. And the same thoughts were stinging her again and again.

A void inside of her; just a human shell. The solitude haunted her, swallowing every bit of hope she had left. It ravened upon any contentment she had to spare, leaving behind an empty carcass; full of despair and memories. It clutched her heart in its claws, drained out every ounce of life she had circulating throughout her veins. It aches for her to endure a life without any snug hands embracing her, or any shoulders to go cry upon. This beast wanted her to only feel those cold fingertips tracing her soul, getting dangerously close to her, yet disappearing in the end; abandoning her, leaving her powerless.

The last word almost falling of the edge of the paper, as though to mirror her inevitable, barren state. Almost as though the life was being sucked right out of her, crippling her from inside out. Although, on the next page, from the mess of a cloudy dark grey it merged into a blue sparkle like an ocean.

6:13am. Rise and shine. It's as if we were all little Suns, as though we all illumined someone's day.
Like an outburst of colours, her mind upheaval. She began to believe, because of her spasmodic thoughts, it was her own responsibility to explore her own recesses of sanity, to accept the whirling paroxysm of her subconscious and escape her refutal. And as a result, it no longer haunted her conscience, instead awakened her pneuma. It kissed her delicate skin and whispered excitement into her ears. It allowed her to feel comfort within the premises of her mind.

Acceptance.
It allowed her to self love, instead of self-loathe. Human bodies are like the forest- thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. It will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly devastated it is. Holding onto that notion, she urged forward. The truth of it all is, not everything happens for a reason. Sometimes, wrong decisions are made and you are asked to live with them for the rest of your lives. But the past does not define an individual, it only prepares them to become who they truly are, to reach their full potential. Like an arrow can only be shot by pulling it backwards; life needs to drag oneself in reverse to launch it into something greater.

Acceptance.
It allowed her to appreciate. One thing, the most worthwhile and unforgettable events in ones lives often last only for a certain moment. Like shooting stars-- you gasp, then they're gone. The most treasured gift we have been given in this temporary world is, our loved ones, the people we care for, those that we take for granted sometimes. Those who would still choose us on their damned, dreadful, luckless days. When the chaos of the world are downpours of heavy, outcrying, beating rain- they'll take our hand, and whisper blissfully, 'Dance with me'. These are the kind of people you connect with to be full-strength. These are the people you have to appreciate.

Acceptance.
It allowed her to love. To be in love. To feel worthy of being loved. The heart is a muscle and so it should be exercised often. Loved conceded her to put her guard down, take risks despite all her fears and choose to fall for him. To trust him with her heart in his hands. To let him touch not only the creases of her body but her soul too. Someone who influences you to be a better person, someone who inspires and reassures you in life, who pushes you towards dreams and goals you'd otherwise ignore, who selflessly sacrifices their time to helping you become a more confident, and happy person. That's, rare. Consent, allowed her to finally hold on to a love like that.
Acceptance allowed to wire all the synapses of her mind. It taught her to admire her damages.

'Did you know that the Grand Canyon was formed by rain and wind and sea, cutting into the earth over millions of years,' she says, 'see even our planet has scars, and look how beautiful that can be. '

And this is why she liked sunsets; it was proof that endings can often be beautiful too.

The diary stays stuffed under the mattress, a thousand more secrets hidden away in each page. It was her only escape from reality. Without it, she like a nightingale without a song to sing; a sun with an empty orbit burning for nobody.

Just another matter and molecules and waste energy of the unfocused universe.

Author's Note

Would love some feedback :) copyright.

Reviews

[Stan Lee]

This is a lovely piece about self-acceptance. I enjoyed it. There were a few grammatical errors. Nothing too major.
sunsets; *they were proof
Without it, she *was like a

Just a bit of general proof-reading to tidy this up and it'll be fantastic!! :)

[Dusk]

First of all, thank you so so sooo much for taking the time to read my work. It really means a lot and I appreciate it! Also thank you for picking up the errors, it's really helps. My first piece of work and it's great motivation to get feedbacks! Thanks again :)