My whole life I’ve lived in silence. I have spoken more silent words to a those around me than I can count. Compared to the words that have actually made it out of my mouth these are far more important. Do you know what it’s like to say a thousand words in your head when not one can make it out your mouth? How painful and frustrating it is to have a million thoughts but not one word? How hard it is to speak one word, any word when you most want to but nothing will come out? Your throat gets tight, your mouth gets dry and you keep thinking, over and over and over “Just say it, one word, please…I’m begging you.” Then your whole body gets so tense and you can feel the tears of your frustration and inadequacy begin to seep through and you’d rather bite your tongue off than let a single tear stain your cheek.Your mouth opens, closes, opens, closes, open and shuts. But you’ve experienced this feeling your entire life so you know the routine well. She begins to ask you questions and your “I always have an opinion and something to say” mind goes blank. You begin to grind your teeth and clench your fists or dig your nails into you skin. However, this time is different, you bit all your nails down to nothing last week so there is no physical pain and you can’t find the numbness to stop the tears. The first tear slithers its way through the inner canal of your eye and slides down the side of your nose and you casually scratch it away but you know she knows it’s already there. And you loath yourself for being here again and feeling this way and letting these aged feelings take hold, leaving you helpless again. Why can’t I say one word to you? I hate myself every time I’m unable to but you wouldn’t know that would you? You wouldn’t know how much I HATE being like this, or how small I feel every time we’re in this situation? The second tear slips out, quick and painlessly onto your jumper and you quickly start to breathe deeply; taking in everything and letting out nothing. Your teeth hurt from grinding them so hard and you wonder if the force could break them so you slow down, little by little until you eventually stop all together. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Deep in through your nose, into your stomach and out the same way because now your mouth won’t even open. She doesn’t understand. You feel lower than the floor and you wish you could just fade away but the universe isn’t that kind. She knows the routine well too, so she asks if you need to gather your thoughts and get back to her at a later date. You shake your head, defeated…again. She leaves and you slip under your bed, sobbing, the feeling of worthlessness ripping through you yet again and you understand why an alcoholic drinks or why a junkie can’t exist without drugs. But you could never conceal the pain with such measures because you know you deserve to bleed. It’s funny how you chose to hide under the bed when you’ve always been afraid of the monsters, but only now do you realize that the monster has always been you. The only difference between the idea of the monster and you being the monster is that no matter how fast you run or how far you hide, you can’t get away from yourself. Feeling so ridiculously sleepy all of a sudden, like you could sleep forever.
The Girl Dressed in Gray Clouds.