Mostly the black is like a fog pushing in, engulfing you in a thick, unbearable darkness. But sometimes it starts inside you.
A seed, almost… In the centre of your chest. Small but dense. And powerful. Heavy.
And from there it grows. Pulsating with a rage. An anger that is incomprehensible and completely irrational. Almost like its feeding on your energy. Sucking the life from you to feed the anger.
You feel yourself fading.
Until it isn’t.
All at once it explodes. Pushing itslef out of you. Like you’re going break apart, pieces of your body flying forcefully in every direction. The black kicks at your ribs and claws up your throat. And you feel like if you opened your mouth to scream it would immediately come rushing out. Tearing you apart as it did.
And so you lie in silence. Willing your body to be strong enough to contain it. While at the same time desperate for it to leave you.
If ony its departure wouldn’t break you.
You do break though. You break down sobbing. Tired from the fight. Terrified of the knowledge that this is part of you. That it IS you.
It’s one thing when you are surrounded by black. Completely another to know it is within you.
And so you sob.
Knowing you are so broken that noone could love you. Wondering how on earth you will go another day like this, much more another 50 years.
“50 years, my god. Please dont make me go through this for 50 more years. Please?” You plead in your head over and over again. “Don’t make me. I can’t.”
And the tears keep coming. And the thoughts go from dark to darker. And you just can’t shake the fact that you don’t want this anymore. Any of it.