Monday, 26 September 2011

That black time of night.



There is a time when my ability to think rationally dissolves into the blackness. Where my facility to make sense of this world folds upon itself into a flat, oblique, nothingness.

Oh it happens every so often, it comes along unexpectedly and sends me reeling for a while thereafter. Always, always it occurs in that still, quiet moment of the day as I reach across myself, stretch and press off the light of my bedside lamp. It clicks, and then.... silence.... knowing silence, the world, my world stops for the day.

And what am I left with? My thoughts,                  alone and bare,               revealed completely.

A taunting pardox that the darkness shines light on my innermost musings. It allows them to creep out from the nooks and stones in my mind. Black shadows of remembered images become merged black clouds of doubt cast upon the here and now.

Fears for the future flicker unharnessed across the dark-quilted quiet around me. The certainty and confidence, that I had carried so assuredly in the easy light of day, becomes fragmented, shards of piercing clarity of why I'm inadequate for whatever lofty goals I had dared to imagine as possible, but hours before.

It's funny how time moves you on from one way of perceiving, from sweet hope to bitter despair. Hope lost, hope in these moments vacates me and finds somebody else to brighten and illuminate. I loose hope in myself and what I can do. I doubt my capabilities and the capabilities of this life to make things right, for all to be well in the end.

These are not nice moments. These self-depreciating times used to be persistent, they would haunt me most nights, BUT you know, now they are fleeting and weaker. They don't bring tears anymore but determination to shake them off and move on. The gaps between these episodes are expanding until they are becoming more and more remote. Just dots on my horizon. That is progress, real measurable progress and I'm so grateful for it. I. am. getting. some.where.

Now, I fight these thoughts. I escape away from them into the words and imaginary thoughts of somebody else. Before, I would have enjoyed dwelling on them, I would've purposefully allowed them to start, to just -  'feel'.  Now, I have my remedy, I take up my earphones and slip into another world, created by somebody whose thoughts weighed heavy too, to a story about somebody elses' life and worry about what is happening to them instead of me. It works. oh the written word, how you work.



(Image from http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?q=dream+darkness&um=1&hl=en&sa=N&biw=1024&bih=499&tbm=isch&tbnid=WAnRvotSEvsRHM:&imgrefurl=http://magdakrawczynska.deviantart.com/art/Darkness-dream-153243130&docid=VWjSgCUsbv7NOM&w=900&h=880&ei=fPSATu6lN4Pdsgag8rmdDg&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=298&page=6&tbnh=127&tbnw=142&start=51&ndsp=12&ved=1t:429,r:8,s:51&tx=54&ty=68)

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