Fallen

Dark, cold alone and frightened.

Hair dampened with cold rain, yet stuck to her forehead from the intense heated sweat that’s running off her face.

She could see her breath, but not her hands. She could feel her heartbeat but not her feet. But she knew she was moving closer, and closer to her edge.

Her feet weren’t walking, nor were they running. They were forcibly gliding across the wet uneven ground. She tried to halt. It was no use. Everything slipped past her beyond.

She knew the edge was nearing, her edge. She tried to run but her legs wouldn’t move. She tried to cling to something, anything, but her hands reached into nowhere. Oh, and those feet, on legs she couldn’t move, well they continued to side. Her body slipping away from itself. From her.

At the peak of her darkness and depth of her own peril she feels the breeze from the brink. It’s calling her deafened ears, it guides her blinded eyes and speaks to her blanked mind. Bleak personification has taken her.

She steps out.

Vast dark emptiness stretching out before her. Awaiting to engulf her as she falls. Cradling her in her own darkness, headed into an abyss she didn’t want too see.

This was it now. The darkness swamped her. She was frozen to the core. Her joints aching from trying to feel herself, trying to feel her feet and stop them moving. Her body aches from trying to hold on. Hold onto what?

Resisting. No use. Closing in on her sinking. Heart beating so loudly in a sea full of silence. Beating so loudly that it deafened her. Eyes now shut.

Recalling

As she went over . Falling into her unknown. Weightless through the air. Terrified of landing.

She was weightless. The first time in this darkness. Beautiful weightlessness.

Thud. Splash. Shock. Reality. Still alive, well barely. Is this real?

Well, my real?

I’m alive??

Eyes opened, again a mirror reflects this tear stained face.

She survived this fall, the 3rd one of the day.

Despite every fall, every paralysis of fear - she opens her eyes and breathes again.

Anxiety and depression are trying their best to pull her into the darkness. Fighting to win. But she still opens her eyes, and survives again, and again.

Whilst staring back the cliff top that is her illness. The cliff she continues to climb back up.

When the world is cold and bleak, and it laps over your feet with icy waves -you become numb to the very core, and that frozen stance becomes your norm, it even becomes your safety place??

The cycle of darkness you rely on to feel, to feel anything.

But, but It’s not you. It’s the world that’s engulfed you, swallowed your darkest demons and spat you out to fight for your life. To fight for your light.

Light comes from the hand that helps you, from the heart that heats your beat, it comes from the mind that’s broken too.

There is no cliff you can’t climb. There is a light in the darkest alley. A beacon in the darkest sea. There is a way, there is always a way.

She realised. She isn’t alone. She never was