The Dark by Heather

More often than not the room is pitch dark. It's hard to see in the darkness. The darkness feels as if it is going to suffocate me. Sometimes my eyes will adjust to the dark and I can pretend as if nothing is wrong.

Sometimes there's a flicker of light. I cherish the light, I don't see it often. The lights comes in various ways. I have no control over the light, it comes and goes when I least expect it. The light does not come often, but when it does, I memorize the room. My fingers will wander over the furniture, I memorize their shapes, as not to bump into them when the darkness returns.

I flip through the photo albums of trips long forgotten, people cherished and memories made. They light my heart, they make me feel content and loved.

The light forces me to acknowledge the existence of the door. I can touch it, but I cannot always open it. The world outside of door scares me. There is darkness and shadows outside, I am afraid they will drag me back to the darkness. Some nights I venture out in the world at night, because I do not want to be seen in the light by strangers. I walk as fast as I can alongside the river, the water somewhat calms me, but my heart is always pounding. I constantly look over my shoulder, afraid that the darkness will take me. I'm always happy to return to the door, to the safety of the five walls, even when darkness falls.

I want the light that brightens the entire room, the light that is so bright, it doesn't cast shadows. The bright light that gives me courage to take long trips and see people who have not forgotten about me. I want the light that puts a smile on my face when I listen to the music and dance through the room. I want the light to stay.

But the light fades. Sometimes the light gets so bright, the light bulb gets overheated and it shatters into a million pieces and the darkness consumes me in a split second.

There are days where it gets more difficult to return to the light, because I am constantly afraid someone is going to take it away. I build walls inside the walls that already confine me and it is difficult to find my way through the maze.

The darkness makes me feel like a burden. I hate the darkness, because within the darkness I only find dark thoughts and it's overwhelming, but at the same time it has been a constant factor in my life, I am used to it.

It is a frightening safety.

My darkness is responsible for my insomnia.

My darkness wears me out.

My darkness was recently given a name.

Dysthymia. Chronic depression.

Welcome to my world.