Listless nature of a wandering soul...

I thought that time was over.
I thought I had broken out of that part of my life.
That familiar feeling of foreboding of ever present doom,
the kind that always lingers in the background but you never know why.

Its been a while since I felt it this bad,
almost like there was an unseen weight upon my chest.
It wont go away, not this time.

And though I don't know the exact reason of why its there,
I do know that it is a warning.
But with this ever lingering weight, comes the inevitable strain on my facade.
The more I try to hide it and go on like everything is normal, the more it crumbles.
And the more I feel decayed.
Like a lost and scared little girl trying to brave a front to the big bad world.

On the outside I'm tough, confident, wise and strong.
But I'm not. Atleast not really. Not anymore.
I don't know when the change happened.
When the strong independent woman, turned into.
The scared girl she is now.

Gone are the day when she was defiant and ready to rule the world.
Now...Now she's reduced to no more than that of a child who is ready to run and hide.
Hide from the things that go bump in the night.
Oh how the mighty have fallen.

If only it was that simple to just run and hide.
I think what jarred me most was the question I was asked earlier in the night.
"You're still alive?"- Now whether meant to be a question of if I was still around,
or a lewd way of phrasing where I have been for so long, it had struck a chord.
Am I still alive? Though obviously not in the sense of breathing, eating, blood flowing through my veins,
But in every other sense I think I might have died a long time ago.

Now what quizzes me the most is out of everything that someone has said to me in a fleeting thought
Not necessarily said to provoke insight or emotion, this is what got to me the most.
That one simple question.

I am not alive. Not in the essence of the term.
Going through the motions and living a daily routine,
one that could be cruised through with eyes closed is not living.

Too often I feel caged, bound, anchored to the bottom of the ocean with no way out.
Along with my facade I feel my mind crumbling, but as much as I blame it on
where I live and the lack of spontaneous adventure that I've grown accustomed to
since I was a young girl, I know that it is only half the reason.

Something is missing and for a while I didn't know what it was, but I think I've finally figured it out.
I'm listless, devoid of any real emotion. I'm restless and frantic, but for what I hadn't known.
I'm lost, I feel almost soulless. I've lost who I am, who I was..and who I need to return to being.


Until then, the cycle will continue without fracture.