I Am Not the Next Diagnosis Victim

I self-suffocate. My soul is baited and trapped, seized inside a stranger's body. I sprawl in bed as darkness creeps around me, squirming and chafing through my heavy cold sheets, clenching for freedom. The self-suffocation shoots a bullet through my thoughts, lodged in my brain for a lifetime. I blame these moments on my frame of mind, trying to desperately climb back up a dark spiraling abyss of depression that has lasted five heart ripping years.

A disorder does not and will not define who I am. I am not the next diagnosis victim. Looking in the mirror, chills tremble down and through my body, as I realize I don’t recognize who is looking back at me. This tormenting sentiment recurs time after time, breathless and afraid that I am going to die. For a time, I pushed everyone away until they were no longer by my side and permanently muted inside of a panic-stricken taped box of memories. I lost my best friend, the prince who swept me off my feet over not being stable enough to handle my upheaval of emotions. I was so fed up with the barb wrapped wire in and around my heart and lungs, stabbing until the pain became numb, that I released the negative energy by gently raising a pristine block of charcoal.

By 2 A.M., I blasted music that sang of pain and anger. I hung a blank dust-covered canvas onto my bright yet soulless yellow walls. Taking a deep breath, I unlock the cage where my demons were held and hidden away. They slither, slow and somber as they whisper of the devil. Surrounded by white light and positive energy, I power through to cleanse out the evil in the cracks of my overworked hands. I slashed ink violently across my canvas in sharp straight lines. I cried out with tears and saliva pouring down my face, hoping to gain relief.

I saw a girl inside my imprint, in the midst of my hasty drawn marks. She would not look at me, she hung her head low with tangled hair over her face. Her curved spine ached of agony. She stood still, paralyzed, encased with chains while the demons murmured in her ear. I stopped in my tracks as I scrutinize her. The demons hovered over my dampened shoulder as I exposed the corruption of which I possessed. I smeared the work with my hands wiping away the malfeasance.

She promptly stands tall across from my bed on a ligneous nightstand to speak at every weak moment, I am not trapped, I am free and there is no need to be scared.