Buried in Blankets

“When I opened my eyes today, I couldn’t see anything. It was terrifying. Could you”?

“No, I couldn’t either. I was blinded by light so bright, it hurt.”

“Did you hear it calling you? Did it deafen you with a high piercing sound”?

“Yes, I found myself floating upward, floating toward the sound, floating toward the light.”

“I felt as if I had lost all control of myself.”

“I felt as if I would rise right out of this bed, but as always, something was weighing me down.”

“Something was keeping me grounded, heavy on this bed.”

“It was like a monstrously heavy paperweight was pushing at my core, making sure I stayed in my place.”

“What do you think that something was”?

“Maybe it was grief, grief over losing myself. I have given up to this illness. I have let it take over me.”

“And now, I cannot claw myself out of the deep dark pit it has dragged me into.”

“I don’t really know how.”

“I felt your whole body quiver as it pulsed and ached.”

“I felt your toes curl and your teeth clench as you buried your screams deep inside.”

“I felt your head snap as you were ripped between your desire to rise and your desire to fall.”

“The desire to fall won, as always. The screams receded. The quivers stilled.”

“I felt the win.”

“It shattered you like a crystal ball. The shards of which I feel embedded in my pages still.”

“I am sorry about that, dear diary. The shards cut deep. Their marks can never be erased.”

“Despite having me as your only company, you are lucky, dear diary.”

“How can I be lucky”?

“I hold the darkest parts of your soul, the most grotesque inner workings of your mind.”

“You are lucky because you are just a few sheaves of paper held flimsily by a thin wire.”

“You are worthless to everyone but me, and even I do not care all that much about you.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Being easily replaceable also means that I am easily forgettable. I can float away whenever I please.”

“Imagine a world in which you were a hardcover book wrapped in dead skin.”

“Imagine a world in which your pages were so thick, it took an effort to turn them.”

“I don’t want to imagine such a world.”

“I don’t want to imagine a world in which I am precious, but also heavy, bound firmly to the ground.”

“I don’t want to imagine a world in which I am clutched tightly in someone’s hands.”

“Just the thought of such a world makes my heart flutter with panic.”

“Imagine how burdened that someone would feel by responsibility.”

“I am glad that I can only imagine their burden and not live with it.”

“I don’t know how I would survive the pain of being too loved to lose or to lose someone I loved.”

“I wish I was worthless like you. Instead, I am constrained, restrained, enslaved to this bed.”

“Aren’t you comfortable on this bed, lost as you are in the haze of slumber and medication”?

“What can be possibly better than being too numb to feel true agony”?

“There was a time when I would have had the answer to that. But that time has passed.”

“I have forgotten what it was to feel deeply.”

“The numbness is all I want now. I need it to shield me from the glaring light.”

“Are you afraid that the light will unearth all your sins and all your pain”?

“Are you afraid that the light will strengthen your desire to live once again, despite the agony”?

“Yes, dear diary, you know that I can’t let that happen to me.”

“If I get up, if I go out, if I even so much as make eye contact, everyone will know who I am.”

“Maybe I have become even more worthless than you, just a cover of the person I used to be.”

“Yes, I at least have a few pages left. You, on the other hand, have lost them all.”

“All the stories that could have been written about you have been severed.”

“Your body hides your empty soul.”

“And I can’t let them know that.”

“You think it will break them, but they might be stronger than you think.”

“Maybe you’re right, but I can’t take that risk.”

“So, I must continue to turn away, even as I continuously fail to dim down the light.”

“You’re just not ready to face those who need you, those who beseech you to get off this bed.”

“I don’t think I will ever be ready again.”

“How long will you keep your eyes shut”?

“How long will you keep your ears covered”?

“How long will you continue to wet yourself with fear”?

“They whisper prayers in your ears, still full of hope. Yet, you cringe at their touch.”

“Their touch reminds me of their suffering, suffering I have caused.”

“That’s because you only hear their cries when they think you are asleep.”

“You do not see their smiles when you wake up.”

“I have not seen them smile in a long time, dear diary.”

“I have only brought tears to their eyes, nothing else.”

“You have not seen them smile because you refuse to open your eyes.”

“If you are even more worthless than me, what keeps you here? What is the point of your existence”?

“I don’t know. Maybe a sliver of me still wants to heal for them.”

“Do you think this part of you has the strength to revive who you were once again”?

“No. The desire to hide is stronger than the desire to heal. This thought tires me, dear diary.”

“I need the light to go out, to submerge me in darkness once more.”

“I need to veil my tears of solitude, instead of facing up to the truth.”

“I need to keep myself hidden, for I am imperfect, afraid, more than a bit broken.”

“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps this bed is the safest place for you.”

“I know I am right, but that thought is terrifying.”

“This is where you will die.”

“Stop, dear diary. I do not want to think about my end.”

“There is a ray of hope still, hope for it to be different. Even though, I know that it can’t be.”

“Not if I continue to lie here, buried in blankets and suffocated by secrets.”

“With only me for company.”

“With only you for company.”

“Worthless.”

“Worthless.”