Whirlpools

The wind gusts as it tries to sweep me off my feet, like loose leaves on a crisp fall day. A tree more barren to it’s soul with each leaf that floats into the atmosphere, I weep. I sob. And I do everything related to my mental disorders in hiding. Sometimes all we have are the sunglasses we wear at night. Or maybe you’re like me and it was great when your parents bought you those things but you’re all grown up and realizing you can’t afford those sunglasses anymore. Either way we find our ways to survive. Here I was; plagued by mental illness and feeling all alone. Almost like Linus in Charlie Brown I’ve always got the rain cloud. Instead of having a blanket I wear sweatshirts and instead of sucking my thumb I bring a bottle of water everywhere I go. The disorders can make you feel like you’re having a heatstroke if you don’t know any better.  Like Linus, I am the klutz. I am the catastrophe. And like Linus, it seemed to always rain, reflecting my misery. The Universe holds me hostage to all things unrelenting and unseen. Basically, all things which are me now. Only, the ransom is my life. It’s my only ticket to feeling better and to get off of a ride I’d never signed up for. At least that’s what my mind would tell me in and out of each day.

Today, I sit in my car at the beach to write. The rain surrounding my car as if to announce once again, “I’m here.” On this day you can see the rains fall so fast out of the sky it almost looks like hail pouring down. I simply sit and watch for a moment. Painfully, the drops hit the windshield of my car and fall to the wipers like tears from the likes of me. Almost a perfect replica of how a teardrop hits under my eye. Streaming down my cheek like a faint river leaving its path, ready for the next to hit. And so the storms’ warning has prefaced in regard to the demon that brews.

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