She looked at herself and wanted there to be nothing. She had to starve herself so her arms would disappear at least to the point of sheer bone. But she despised herself like this. She starved herself so she could live. But the impending sense of doom lurked at her every turn. He crouched next to her; he stretched and bent with her and she couldn’t shake him off. Yet he wasn’t yet inside her.
With the change of weather it could almost seem as if she had dispelled him. She felt a surge in creativity, in energy, in life itself.
She was alone. She couldn’t live how she had before. She had to make a change, she wanted to, she needed to. Her environment did not oblige, however.
Away, she felt swallowed. But she had to stand apart. The stubborness, weight and depressive film over the others’ eyes became too much. She had to loosen the weight of it all.
It’s a selfish spiral, depression is. She couldn’t read, had seemingly lost that wonderful childish absorptive quality of a sponge, couldn’t learn, couldn’t bring anything to anyone. All there was was an internal delusional rage against her seeming inadequacy, her own seeming directionless floundering and flailing and her own assuredness in her utter self-worthlessness. Now rationally, she can see she was imbibing and whole-heartedly embodying all dark and dangerous thoughts of all those around her; her heart had no space left for herself. She was merely piling unsolvable, impossible depressive hedonism upon unsolvable, impossible hedonistic depression.
She hid from who was there and strained desperately for who wasn’t. She eschewed everything that was and dreamt of everything that wasn’t. And because she is the best at climbing an absolute and perfect mountain she got there and scaled the peak. Having flung herself simultaneously into such depths of the open sea she swam propelled by passion, fury and dissatisfaction into the epicentre of the lost kingdom. A place of almost no return. Amid her non-care, sadness and denial she panicked.
She panicked until she screamed and could breathe no more.
Until she dived off the mountain headfirst.
Now she is only levitating and weeping amongst the treetops.*
But there will be a future and an energy. Before, solely a stunted dark abyss with green fangs.
*Deleted: in purgatory
(In retrospect of Autumn 2014 when she was in denial. Written August 2015.)