Sunday, November 21, 2004

Whispers.....

The forever-endless journey of my thoughts traveling through my sleepless mind. I just wish to feel "normal" again. Heart pounding, lungs heaving, my ears pick up every sound...my body put through another intense night of "fight or flight". Terrified of the dark...no....terrified of what I have seen in the dark. So I sleep with a light on, poorly justifying that as long as I am in the light they cannot touch me. All it takes is a tickle in my ear, for my stomach to sink now. "Hannah!" A voice so commanding, even through a whisper it can pull me from my sleep. My muscles ache, my head pounds, my soul is frantic. Helplessly trapped inside of this resting body, as it has to experience the evil on its own. So I medicate myself with caffeine, ephedrine or whatever else can stretch my eyes awake for a few more agonizing hours. I pray...I worship...I beg...I plead...for help...to be rescued. An image of Gods strongest angel smiling as he wraps his wings around me and allows me to sleep with peace. But I open my eyes only to see the ceiling, of which I am now convinced is covered with Satan’s demons beckoning me to give up. Like vultures circling in the sky over a bleeding animal, waiting for me to surrender. Only for them to swoop down and rip apart anything they can get. "I miss my mom" a random thought that echoes in my mind. I reach for a memory bound to the feeling of security. A scrape on my knee, that my daddy kissed away; a tear on my cheek, that my mom wiped away; a hug from a boyfriend, that made me feel safe. Anything? Nothing...only a thick silence, which I seem to focus on for too long and then begin to imagine a deafening amount of whispers taunting me with my name. Is this where it begins? Before I am soon in a wheelchair pumped with depressants, watching the white coats shake hands and congratulate themselves on their success? Success of what? I am not healed just because I can not move, I am not healed just because I can not bring my body to match the frantic-ness of my mind any longer...Its worse now...I am stuck inside where they are permanently. Wait...I am not there yet. Still lying helplessly in my bed. The wall just creaked...I feel something next to me, but I won’t look. "Leave me...I am a child of God!" I push the thought from my quivering stomach to the tip of my mind. Another creak. Am I supposed to say it out loud? What if it angers them, and makes it worse. "Leave me now...I am a child of God...I only wish to feel the presence of my Lord." I manage to say out loud. Silence. Are they gone? What was that? I felt a cold breeze on my cheek. Would the breath of something from hell be cold? Or is it my angel letting me know I am safe. Are these thoughts my own, or something that has been whispered into my ear, masking their voice with mine? Which thoughts are rooting from my own self being scared, and which are taunting me to be scared? Persuading me to let them in. Satan has found the one window that I left open. Fear. He uses that window to go in and out of me. The more he frightens me, the wider the window, the easier to get inside. So I pray again...an endless cycle. I will mask my fear, with my love for Christ. I'll close my eyes...I will pretend to feel "normal" again reaching to escape the place of insanity that my mind is slipping into.

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