The House on Fire - An invisible illness

“Sometimes I lose my mind. I’m deaf to the blasting sounds of my thoughts and can only feel the vibrations.

 

When I try to remember hard times, I can't. Who can remember when the house is on fire. All I remember is the heat, pain, smoke, I can't breathe. But I don't remember what day it was, my age or where I was. No one can see the smoke and the roof caving in, the hollow sounds of the walls crackling and buckling. I can't breathe.

 

The fire isn’t all that consumes me. Sometimes the house is at the bottom of a frozen lake. I open my eyes. No heat. Cold. Meaningless. Lifeless. I cry but it's so cold deep down in the frozen lake, I can’t feel the heat of my tears. I want to scream, I open my mouth. Water. Cold. Sharp. Crashes down my throat until everything is cold. Outside and inside. I look out the window up to the top of the lake. No stars or sky. Just water and a thick layer of ice.

 

Manic Depressive? Is that what this is? The flames are mania and the frozen lake depression?

And what about the flashes and voices of the past that slice my ear drums and claw at me? There is a monster beneath my bed waiting for me to fall asleep. That's not real but it is real. I I can hear him breathing. I'm scared. Hold my breathe and shut my eyes. The house under the lake and on fire can be depression but what about the marks on my skin? I can feel where they hurt me.

 

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? No. I don't want that either.

Sometimes I find myself wasting time, hours, days, months, running. Using a drug. Maybe what I need is a man. Yes and I have found one. A good man, until he finds out about my past and then he’s a man who breaks me and leaves me looking at a bottle of vodka for answers. I’m so thirsty. I can’t breathe. It’s an escape. My drug and the booze. I’m running and I don’t know from what. Why can’t I stop running? Why can’t I stop?

 

Addiction? So I’m also an addict? I’ve been running for so long without understanding from what. An unwanted answer is better than a problem with no name. And then a loving higher power enters my life and sends me a solution. A fellowship of people like me, a path to a faith that works. The pills keep me stable. The pain has stopped, my mind is at rest and I can finally breathe. There is always hope.”