On very rare occasions I like to write. I never normally share though - sure you all understand why!
As I've come to understand my illness better I have felt like it is almost a thing, something solid. It is something that never goes away even when I am feeling 'well' like it is just there lurking always trying to come back. I wrote this based on that feeling. The 'man' is a metaphor for my illness, for my dark thoughts.
There is a man walking behind me. I don't know who he is. I don't know why he is there. I do know what he wants, but I don't understand why. He has no face. I just feel his presence. I hear him calling to me.
He is there with a stubbornness as solid as rock and an unrelenting persistence. He is skilled in finding ways to twist and turn even the most harmless of words and expressions, a master of doubts and questions.
I can lapse, listen to him, turn to look then stumble, trip - a mistake as he gains on me. Or he may be stealthy in his approach, patiently laying in wait to simply stop me with one single blow - an opportunist having found the perfect moment.
He is a farmer planting seeds of doubt in my mind. With every encounter he nourishes the seedlings. They grow, leaving my mind to go through an ever more dense and tangled forest.
I feel his shadow drawing towards me. Closer and closer until it encompasses me, falling over me, making everything in front of me dark. I can almost feel him against me, his breath on my neck.
He is hardened to my pleas. He stands firm, tells me there is nothing in front. In the dark I get disorientated, scared, I question what I believe. I search for a way forward, something to hold on to, a way to get away.
I'm worn down by him, like a piece of glass in the oceans waves becoming smooth and dull. His confidence in my lack of abilities is superior. I say I'm failing, I say I'm too tired, I say I can't do it anymore. He leaves me in the dark. He need say no more.
As I've come to understand my illness better I have felt like it is almost a thing, something solid. It is something that never goes away even when I am feeling 'well' like it is just there lurking always trying to come back. I wrote this based on that feeling. The 'man' is a metaphor for my illness, for my dark thoughts.
There is a man walking behind me. I don't know who he is. I don't know why he is there. I do know what he wants, but I don't understand why. He has no face. I just feel his presence. I hear him calling to me.
He is there with a stubbornness as solid as rock and an unrelenting persistence. He is skilled in finding ways to twist and turn even the most harmless of words and expressions, a master of doubts and questions.
I can lapse, listen to him, turn to look then stumble, trip - a mistake as he gains on me. Or he may be stealthy in his approach, patiently laying in wait to simply stop me with one single blow - an opportunist having found the perfect moment.
He is a farmer planting seeds of doubt in my mind. With every encounter he nourishes the seedlings. They grow, leaving my mind to go through an ever more dense and tangled forest.
I feel his shadow drawing towards me. Closer and closer until it encompasses me, falling over me, making everything in front of me dark. I can almost feel him against me, his breath on my neck.
He is hardened to my pleas. He stands firm, tells me there is nothing in front. In the dark I get disorientated, scared, I question what I believe. I search for a way forward, something to hold on to, a way to get away.
I'm worn down by him, like a piece of glass in the oceans waves becoming smooth and dull. His confidence in my lack of abilities is superior. I say I'm failing, I say I'm too tired, I say I can't do it anymore. He leaves me in the dark. He need say no more.
