It's Just A Nightmare, Alright?

Pain slapped my face. It slammed me so hard, I was unable to identify what hit me. My stomach twisted into knots. Anxiety spread throughout my body. My hungry heart tugged towards anything that would satisfy the fear. My face flushed with embarrassment for allowing myself to be afraid. Irritation consumed me. I felt heat rise from my toes, to my chest, to my cheeks. An unearthly being possessed me. 


I was rampent.


I look up at the white shapes on my ceiling, begging for help. I cried out, but no one answered my troubled call. I melted into the fetal position; my face wrinkled my bed sheets. Tears blemished my complexion. I sat up to look into my mirror. I saw a hideous make-up stained character. I realized the empty eyes looking back at me were my own. Anger erupted inside of me. My reflection was despicable, loathsome, weak. Self-hatred infiltrated my mind. My unscathed body got destroyed in the crossfire of my violence. I yanked my hair until my scalp turned pink. I scratched my skin until my nails turned bloody. My small frame darkened with bruises. 


I was tormented.


Exhaustion slowly embraced me. Inhale. Exhale. I tried to focus on simpler things, but found myself glimpsing at my image in the mirror with disgust. Inhale. Exhale. I couldn't escape myself. I rolled over, my body fatigued. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. I fell silent, paralyzed, holding my breath. I wanted God to let me experience more pain. I didn't deserve to be numb. But there wasn't a feeling left for me to experience. 


I had been deceived. 
I was succumbed by insensibility. 
I slipped away.


For those of you that care, I want to explain a few things. I came across a picture that spoke to me. Seldom do I come across things that touch me so deeply that they inspire me to write. Usually I write about things that have just happened to me. It's usually all personal, alive and active feelings. But when i saw this, i felt lead to convey the picture with words. 


So this post is dedicated to anyone that's felt pain. It's to those of us that's been wounded so deeply that we look in the mirror and hate the person staring back at us. This is to those of us that have been deceived by ungodly things, and been tempted to destroy ourselves. Here's to those of us that battle with sensibility; the depressed, the hurt, the "cry babies." We're all entitled to our emotions. But we don't deserve to hate ourselves for feeling the way we do. 


This is the picture:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/audreyhutchinson/4145742676/
I wanted to give the photographer full credit for it. So I decided against the screen shot and just putting it on here. :]


Yours until the pigs fly,
Alessondra Maire