Secret Storm

I’m drowning, will you save me? But what if I don’t want to be saved? Will you still try to save me? Today I feel like death, but a week, two weeks from now, I may not feel this way. That is the problem with this ‘disease’. It makes the mind believe things that I wouldn’t normally believe.

Please forgive me, I know not what I do. There is just too much pain I’m going through. Every word I say may be true, so please forgive while I try to silence a voice or two.

I feel like I can’t breathe again. This new medicine I’m on has my mind twisted. It’s been 2 weeks now and I should be feeling better according those who prescribed the pills, but they forget there are the few like me that experience the opposite effects and turn suicidal and homicidal in the first few weeks. If I can convince myself to stay on the medicine for more than a month or two things should start to smooth out as my body adjust to the medicine. Then I fear it will be just like in the past, I will stop taking the medicine and will have to go through all the withdraw emotions. At my age, I don’t think I can do that again.

I don’t know why, but when I’m medicated I’m reminded of every little painful moment from my past. Memories flood my mind and stomp around stirring up so much dust, I feel like I just can’t breathe. Right now, I’m staring face to face with extreme depression, fatigue, suicidal thoughts, impulsivity, risky behavior, and complete feelings of emptiness. Pain lances throughout my body. It hurt before, but never this bad. Tears spring to my eyes for no reason at all. I don’t want to be a part of this world.

I glanced around. The woods were mostly silent, with a few birds chattering in the distance. I inhaled the clean, pine tree air and relished in the calmness of the moment. Hunting season was long over and it was too chilly for camping. I doubted anyone would stumble upon the clearing, or hear her screams for mercy.

She flinched away from my words and touch. Clenching her eyelids tighter together, the heathen’s sobs became more audible and distraught. Her body began shaking uncontrollably, most likely due to a mixture of shock and terror.

“Hush, I’m helping you.” I tried to explain. 

“I don’t want to kill you. I have to kill you. This is the task that the voices have assigned to me. I dare not refuse what they have to say.”

This will make tomorrow a clearer day to see.