Darkness tends to scare most people away, it frightens them to the point where they want to scream. For some others , darkness comforts them and brings them peace – it could even be the only way they could live.
The pitch black colour you see when you open your eyes could either be the best thing for you or the worst.
Then there’s me.
I only have one word to describe how darkness makes me feel and that is ; Familiarity. Day by day I watched the darkness take over my life as if I was the watcher to my own disaster show. I never quite had a say in what I felt or what took over me. I was familiar with the way that the darkness made me feel and when it was gone it seemed as if a piece of my soul had been stripped from me.
Years go by and I’m reminded of it , yet I never truly felt it again until recently. Until recently, I found myself pick at the skin of my thumb, digging my nails into my wrists, jerking my leg up and down, squirming whenever someone came close to me.
Fear was surrounding me every time there was a slight chance for any type of anxiety or insecurity to step in. Every time someone read my text and didn’t respond or when someone was treating me differently or something as simple as seeing a familiar face, all those things increased my discomfort and a sadness that I knew I had no right to have.
Now every day when I wake up , I have to put on a brave face and prepare myself for the worst, knowing that the anxiety will strike me at the most random time. I know that my anxiety is holding me back. I know that with my anxiety I’m a bit more of myself that I’ve loathed all these years.
Even though I felt discomfort due to its disappearance, I still felt reassurance. I found comfort in my sadness. The thing is when you spend half of your life being sad , it grows on you and the second that you start feeling something else , the guilt chases you around hunting you like a weak prey in a game of hide and seek.
I’m not saying, I’m a victim. I do not want your sympathy. I do not need your pity. I do not ask for your sorrow or apologies. All I ask for is that maybe every once in a while you treat me normally and not like I’m a person made of a rare glass and perhaps ask me how I’m doing if you see me around. Maybe some time I’ll ask you too.
I’m asking my friends to hold on and wait. I’m asking the closest person to me to know that I’m anxious with one look. I’m asking you to ask me what’s wrong and drag me away from our friends and make me sit down until I tell you. I’m asking you to show the concern and worry you feel. I hope that you won’t need to ask me. I hope that you know that my anxiety is just part of me and I pray that you will just drag me away from the crowd to take me in your arms and make me believe that I am not broken.
I am not broken.