My cross to bear,
a constant battle with myself.
A vicious monster
whose tentacles snare my soul,
determined to drag me under,
and disconnect me from the world.
A suffocating silence of the music,
the chords of joy in my life,
an insane kind of mind control.
The smallest of outside input
triggers a panic attack.
The gray fog holds me hostage,
but I have learned to fight
the urge to stay silent.
Just texting a line or two to a friend
gives me some small control
and strengthens me against the paralysis.
Then a phone call or an e-mail.
tiny steps, a gradual process.
Thank God for friendships,
people who love and accept me,
warts and all.
Without them,
I would be stranded on a deserted island.
lost in the dark mist of twisted logic.
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