I am feeling a lot better today in comparison to that awful morning. I realized that my writing down only negative feelings was not giving an accurate representation of the whole spectrum of my experiences. For my own sake, I’d like to reflect on the after, on how I move through my depression (and now my anxiety). Continue reading
It’s funny how in some of my darkest moments I do not seek comforting words nor kind embraces, but instead yearn deeply for a fiery anguish that I once fought against. I never wanted to be by your side when I was forced into your hands. I never did like you all too much when you were the biggest thorn in my life. I’m still not quite sure I like you now. Still, strangely enough, I miss you.
I’ve always thought of you as a monster: dark, and filled with all the frustrations I compounded within you; hollow, with no possible understanding of all the sorrow that I was consumed with; terrifying, because I always running away. So I’ll continue to call you monster.
Without me, you were worthless. With you, I was the one that felt that way. I felt like there were impassable barriers – that I just didn’t have the talent to become your master. There was so much I wanted to express, but I never found the right notes to do just that. Always, always, I felt an insurmountable desire to give up. Always, always, I was forced back into your hand. I despised the redundancy of repeating the same melodies over and over, memorizing the movements as if I were just a machine. I just wanted to play new things all the time, but I knew that would get me nowhere.
Though sometimes, nowhere was okay. Nowhere was a safe place to be. I would slam the keys and cry my heart out, realigning the hard-pressed edges of my life. I would release every angry thought in a flurry of chords played fortissimo, pressing down the pedal so that everything meshed into one amalgamation of harshness. It was best when the house was empty, when I could immerse myself in some desperate melody. Though sometimes I just didn’t care, even if everybody outside could hear this disgraceful use of an instrument. Maybe a part of me wanted everyone else to see you for the monster that you were. The monster that you still are in my mind – because the memories never fade.
As much as I hated you then, I miss you now. I miss the sensation of release, of mindlessly pouring out my emotions as if you could absorb all the terrible things that I was feeling. I wish you were here in this cold, callous city to warm me with frenzied passion. I wish you were here to allure me to sleep with the gentle lullabies I always liked to play. I wish you were here to I could go through a stack of music and find solace in something more beautiful than I will ever create.
I…I have nothing more to say,
but I miss you.
Why are you sad?
I don’t know. I just don’t know. My mood changes like this global warming infested weather. One moment I’m screaming words I didn’t intend to say, and the next I find comfort in the silence. Then the tears come for bad memories are often drawn to the silence.
My fingers crashed, but they inflicted no difference upon the monster. He knows me too well. Knows that he is immune to my words and my attacks. I fought him harder as if in a cry for help. But that cry was in a language that no one will ever understand. Forte, forte, forte. There was no gentleness left in me today. I was not satisfied until the numbness came to mind. I will lose him soon enough. I will escape his grasp and find a better place…but it is always frightening to look towards somewhere unfamiliar. He is familiar, too familiar; yet because I know his other face, I cannot despise him completely. He is sometimes useful for my needs.
I have come to a realization as to why I prefer my brother’s bed to mine. It is safer in his room. He protects me from the monster…most of the time anyway. And perhaps, I don’t feel so alone.
Sometimes I question how the monster came to be. When did it start? And why did I run from all the prior opportunities to terminate his existence? It was never meant to be like this. It was a silly whim. To follow and perform like my dear best friend. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all a mistake…but his other face, his other face! It tantalizes me evermore…
I will name him when this is all over…when I am done all that I think I should do. He will have a proper name, but something bestial – I think that would suit him best.
Monster, monster, knocking at the doors of my mind…
He reminds me of all the things I fear.
Reminds me that what I feared and thought to have overcome may actually still be lurking in the shadows.
He is unkind.
But you are too kind.
Too kind to rescue me from his grasp.
He and loneliness make good partners.