I Don’t Want To Be Like This

There’s too much going on all around me.

I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of a storm.

I don’t know what direction I came from.

I can’t see what direction I need to go.

The wind of life is buffeting me at all directions

This needs fixing

Work

We need to patch our winter jacket

Work

Do we have food? …what if I can choke down what we have? How long will it be before we FOR SURE eat again? I need to know how long I’ll need to make our rations of safe foods last…

Day off = therapy.

No therapy today = need to catch up on tasks left unattended

Error

Priority of tasks unable to be calculated

Try again later

I can’t ‘try again later…I need to know it now!!!

A light, someone excited to share a treasured thought with me.

I turn towards it

Yet in turning, shrapnel caught by life’s wind hits me.

I grimace to mask the pain, but the light retreats, believing my reaction was to it.

I am left alone.

My tiredness grows. 

I push on, hoping that I am making some sort of progress.

Another light.

I’m scared. I want to reach for it, to see what it wants to share, but I already caused one light pain, what if I cause this one the same pain?

My hesitation as I reach out causes it to dim, feeling as though I did not truly want it.

I cry, not understanding why or how I could kill so much light without meaning to.

Pain floods through me.

Empathy gives me a second mortal wound, though it will not end my physical life

I don’t want to be like this.

I don’t want to kill the lights.

The wind tears through me.

I fear it will shred me to pieces.

Perhaps that would be better?

If I was in pieces, would I avoid hurting the lights around me?

My grim outlook leads me to believe that I’d likely only impact them and kill them more directly with all of this wind whipping about.

I curl into a ball, wanting everything to stop.

I close my eyes, cover my ears.

“STOP!”

I finally scream, when I feel as though I’m on my last legs.

I open my eyes and see lights all gathered around me, flicker out

One

by

one.

I cry, and I scream again.

And again.

And again.

I’m so tired.

How do I stop hurting every good thing in the world?

I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.

Why is everything happening like this?

Even as I write this, I cry.

This isn’t going to fix anything

Hell, for all my luck, it’s going to make everything worse.

I feel like all I can do is keep hurting the very thing I want to protect the most.

Mortal wounds fill me

They are unmerciful, killing my soul while allowing my shell to live on

Death will not come for me yet

This is my punishment

I must continue in this storm

This is my own personal hell.

I must continue on, though I may hurt or kill even more lights

Staying still is only going to be worse.

I hope, one day, that I’ll be able to see exactly how many lights have gone out because of me.

Dare I hope that some lights have sparked to life as well?

…can I even dream that someday the latter number will overthrow the former?

-=- written by Ekaterina, with plenty of passive and active influence from other alters -=-