Manic
24 hours had passed and I was in a hole, the darkness had consumed me and I couldn’t dispel it, what was going on? I had all of the reasons in life to be happy but the flashes were still coming by the minute, as I drove home that night, I imagined crashing, diving headlong off of the Ben Franklin, nothing to stop me but the thick unforgivable steel, and the thoughts of those I would lose in the process.
I made it home safely. Against a plight of thoughts that were tempting me otherwise. Into bed I go. Feeling like that was the only place I’d be safe. No sharps around. Nothing to harm me. I convince myself to stay steady and distract my brain. It’s time to fill my body with the cure, a hand full of pills and the coldest iced tea. They’re prescribed so what harm could they do. I’ll drift off to sleep and start a new day, filled with sunshine and the voice of my love, the fix I needed to climb out of this tunnel.
But the pills, they’ve turned on me, I feel my body start to shake and the numbness approach my lips, I can’t reach my slumber. And if I continue laying here, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me with the thoughts running rampant in my brain that night. So I decide to move, into the closest haven I can find myself while staying relaxed, a hot bath, not the lukewarm after thought, the kind that stings your skin and makes you feel alive. But then upon exiting, immediately ready for a drowsy release.
I enter with an ahhh of immediate comfort, feeling the heat overtake me, realizing this is exactly what I needed to escape. But I’ve gone too far. The chemicals have overtaken me finally and I feel as if I’m drowning in this 2ft pool, deciding to escape as the world starts to turn, I’ve lost my grip on reality and nothing seems tangible, not even my feet on the floor, I go down the first time, feeling my bones crunch on the imitation wood, and I’m gone, everything is black and I wake up sweating, unable to stand, spinning out of control.
I find myself in an army crawl trying to get back to the sanctuary of my bed. Imagining how silly it was to be contemplating an end just hours before when now I am literally praying for a way to hear the sweet voice of my heart in the nighttime. In the distance I see the purple sheets, I am almost there, falling repeatedly with my head against the tattered carpet. Wishing I had played my cards differently. Wishing I had remained stationary, playing solitaire in my mind until I had met Hypnos.