Mute Points

Driven to the depths by fear, my mind wants to shut down. These are the moments when I wonder how I’m not an addict. Searching for whatever means to escape this hell. I suppose responsibility is what always grounded me. Though there are moments. So I suffer through battling the endless “what if's” that scan across my mind. You’d think by now I would have discovered a magic cure. But sometimes even medication and therapy are mute points. So I turn to my one coping mechanism, my words. 

Who knows what direction this thing is going into? Sometimes it’s a message of hope, sometimes just an explanation of why I am. Either way, I’m buried under the covers. Lisa knows well to just let things be, the rest of the house just stays the course. I don’t really know what brought on this attack other than a moments worth of attention. When it comes to my insides, does it ever really need a reason? 

So I cross the plain of knowing better and just not giving a shit. Accepting the emotions as they come and exposing my pain for all the world to gawk at. Bitterness, fear, anger, hate they all become a part of it. So I’m sitting here believing, this too shall pass. But for the moment those words ring as hollow as a church billboard sign.
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No amount of positive reinforcement pulls me from this muck. Only time and listening to what my insides say. But life continues to turn and no matter what, bills need to be paid and things need to get done. Maybe's that’s my saving grace, purpose of life. Meaning and drive see other day. And while I’m sure I’ll pull through this; at the moment I lay here and grieve.