Amok

Inside my head and chest I am running amok, screaming.

I am without center. I feel like I am falling, but I also feel like I’ve already pancaked, that I’m compressed paper thin, inching my way into my own singularity. A harmonic thread vibrating at an insane pitch.

I’ve come to hate this part of winter.

Its been really neat here otherwise. We’ve gotten about 4-6 inches of snow. Really dry, fluffy snow. Everything is pretty, everything is white. All is calm. All is bright.

Except the insanity which is the Affective Disorder inside my head.

I cannot find a corner deep enough, tight enough, far away enough inside of myself to withdraw into that will give me peace. Not at the moment, not while I’m awake and upright.

My solace will come under piles of quilts, in the blue darkness of my bedroom.

I am terrified of people right now. But I also crave to have someone. Someone to cling to, someone to tell me not to freak. Someone who will let me freak, and not freak with me. Someone who will freak with me because the freaking is really okay, its really just another part of being human, and we will both be okay come the morning of the year.

But no people.

I intended a quiet evening at home tonight. Instead everyone I know called me. And I delt with that; I did fine. None of them would ever know I had a problem. Even Christine whom I basically stood up (although our getting together on Thursday nights is always an open contract), whom knows I am SAD and I told I was having an alone night… she understands this, and still talked to me for 30 minutes, because – I know – I didn’t sound like I was freaked.

So now I’m really freaked. *sighs*

This is me running in random orbits with my arms flailing like Kermit The Frog before the opening act of the Muppet Show.

This is me repeatedly running into the same wall with ballistic impact because for a moment I feel solid and real.

This is me crying inside because… because. Not because I’m sad or scared or upset or even happy, but because thats the button thats being pushed right now.

This is me screaming my pathetic wail. The world does not have enough air to complete the sound.

This is me hunkered down in a tiny ball, a speck, in the middle of everything, shrinking from myself.

This is me going amok.