My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I’m scared I’m stuck, stuck feeling like this until I quit breathing. All this dark, I can’t see through it, out of it, it’s so big. There’s always been this kind of spark in me, and it always flickers into a flame, something white-hot, whenever I fall really hard. It’s like Neo in The Matrix, he’s trapped at gun-point in this narrow hallway of a run-down hotel building, takes a bunch of bullets in his chest, stumbles backward, hits a wall, hard. He gets weak, slumps to the floor, leaves a trail of blood where he slid. I remember that scene so vividly, I see the hallway, the recoil of the gun pumping round after round into Neo’s chest. What I really remember is the sound, the thump when his back hits the wall. I see the trail of blood, like paint on canvas. Neo’s lying there, on that dirty hallway floor, dead. Dead, until he isn’t. He gets up, he snaps out of being dead, like it’s something ridiculous. His eyes look so clear, so full of purpose, and he quietly says, really just to himself, “No.” Neo decides he doesn’t have to follow the rules of that world, the Matrix. He wasn’t going to die right there in some hotel building, so far from the one person who’s his home. He fights his way back to her, Trinity, his home.

I think I remember that scene so well because I’ve experienced it. Not that I’ve ever been shot a bunch of times, only to go fuckin’ Kung Fu on the fellow who shot me, but I’ve felt complete darkness, I’ve genuinely almost died so many times. One time, I did die. I laid dead in some e.r. trauma-room for around three minutes. Still, as sad, or physically weak, or terrified as I’ve ever been, I’ve always come to that feeling of perfect clarity and I tell myself, “No.”

I’m scared right now because that clarity is nowhere.

I can’t go home.

I feel so lost.

I’m just a zombie, living but not. I’m emotionless motion, lifeless life. Going and going nowhere.

Nothing feels good, I’m all kinds of scared. I hear rain outside, tapping at my window, making it so I can’t not think about someone, making me feel so alone. I can’t fall asleep, I’m too scared of my bad dreams. I want puppies and flowers, I want to go home. I want someone to hold me close and tell me everything’s okay now, I don’t have to be scared and alone anymore. It’s okay to sleep, “I’m right here, don’t be scared. I love you, I’m here.” I want to go home, I don’t want to keep feeling all this sad and scared  and dark.

I know it’s my fault, I know…

I can’t sleep, nothing, absolutely nothing feels good.

I have nightmares, so many nightmares, they don’t stop anymore. I wake up exhausted, like I didn’t sleep at all. I wake up feeling like I can’t breathe. Sometimes I know why, sometimes I don’t. Being awake’s a nightmare too, I don’t know which is worse. I deserve it, it’s not like I don’t.

I’m too screwed up, and nervous, and lost, and alone right now. I’m so lost, so alone. I can’t think straight or write straight, or DO ANYTHING. I knew it’s all my fault, I accept that, no other way to see it. I’m a worthless waste. I ruin everything.

I won’t be writing.

It would have been better for everyone had that trach not gone in, technology fails again.

I just screw up, it’s all I do. I don’t mean to, I try to do what everybody wants, but I always just fuck things up. That trach shouldn’t have gone in, the alarms should have just kept going.

I should just vanish, rather than, I don’t know.

So, yesterday was bad. I had to have two trach changes, which is never good, yesterday was just particularly bad.  I’m trying to decide if I feel like writing all of it, it, I’m tired. I could do a full writing tomorrow, but then I probably wouldn’t. I’m just tired, I feel worn, small. I feel small. It was scary, I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

I’m scared about today, I shouldn’t be scared of a trach change, but I am. I hate feeling like this, I hate that I’m so scared. I just want to go home. I want to feel good and safe and okay and not scared. I… It doesn’t matter. Saying anything doesn’t matter.