My mind is a skyscraper, shiny and new. But it is all a façade, ready to shatter. All that remains will be the skeleton of the structure. But it’s holding on for now.
My mind is a movie. A thriller, or possibly horror. The one where a Utopian city is plagued by some unseen monster that lurks in the shadows. The government tries to pretend everything is fine, tries to force everyone to be happy even when they’re terrified. So everyone smiles and carries on like Utopians societies exist.
But they don’t, and everyone knows it. People watch the shadows from the corners of their eyes, waiting for affirmation of their fears. The monster in many movies and stories survives on the peripheral like that. Once seen head on, they aren’t so scary anymore.
This monster isn’t like that. Once the people see it, recognize it by its true name, it gains power. It feeds on the fear of itself, grows stronger and stronger, until everything falls apart into nonfuncional anarchy. There is nothing left but the monster as it ravages the city.
Just like in the movies, this monster loves the darkness. At night, when I’m less easily distracted, it sometimes surfaces with a mewling roar. Usually, sleep comes rather effortlessly. But not tonight. The monster is watching me watch it, waiting in the wings.
I don’t know what is wrong with me only because if I acknowledge it, it will overwhelm me.
(Adventures in anxiety. Ugh! So vexing. I never used to have problems with this, but in the last 8 months or so, it’s gotten progressively worse. The doctor said to exercise more and I am, which makes me less lethargic but not less anxious. Blah. I just want to run away)