Automaton

Weeks, days and hours have all blended together.  I can’t find any distinction in the passing of time.  Blurred moments of going through the actions of daily life come to mind, but it’s surreal.  

I’m an automaton.

I’ve reached a mental impasse.  I’ve felt it coming for a long time but kept pushing it aside with the hope that it will pass – that my perception of life will correct itself and the semblance of normal would return.

Confusion reins.

Anxiety is a predator.  

Sleep is haunted by nightmares so horrifying that it takes hours to shake the residual memory and physical effect of them.  Yesterday was, by far, the worst.  I took a nap and woke up crying in terror.  It was about Wesley.  It took almost an hour to shed the lingering feeling of hopelessness that the dream conjured up.  Another hour of holding him, playing with him and laughing with him, finally broke the hold it had on me.   

I was afraid to go to bed last night.  I stayed up all night watching programs on Netflix to keep my mind in constant, passive focus of the mundane.  Before the sun rose, I greeted my husband at the bottom of the stairs.  He read me immediately, asking what was wrong.  I gave him a flat, disjointed response and all he could offer me was a warm, compassionate embrace before I headed up to our bed.  I slept for about five hours – a dreamless sleep – or I just didn’t remember what I dreamt.

I’m disoriented.

Have I had a rational thought at all this week?  I can’t remember.  

How is it possible to be surrounded by people and still feel utterly isolated?  

Is this what despair feels like?  

I can not bring myself to share the turmoil of my thoughts and feelings – the causes of them – with anyone.  The thought of doing so leaves me feeling like I’d be breaking an unwritten law – revealing a sacred secret – committing a betrayal of sorts.  

Deep down, I know.  It’s there.  It stands on the threshold of a black void.  To know what’s on the other side, I’d have to penetrate that darkness and it terrifies me.  Will there be anything solid to stand on, on the other side, or will it be free-fall to the bottom of nothing?

Hope keeps me cohesive – from falling completely apart…, but without vigilance, it can be lost.  

Time slips away and stands still at the same time.

Until I find the courage to step forward, I put on the metal of endurance.  I hide behind the veil of habitual motion.  I act out the parts like a superstar, and I wait…

For now, I am an automaton.