Quiet

Reality is here. It’s settled into my senses and taken over my consciousness. Its sinewy tendrils, grabbing onto my vision and reaching from the corners of my mind, open me back up to the world.

I hate it.

Everything I fear is now in front of me, taunting me, goading me like a bully on a playground. All my problems, anxieties and shortcomings are there to greet me as well. I can feel each individual nerve in my body fire. I feel as though I’m exploding in slow motion from the inside, but also at the speed of light itself.

I don’t like it.

I stare.

I want to do more, but I can’t. I just sit and stare.

I wait.

Nothing changes. The world is still staring at me; mocking me; sticking its tongue out at me. I don’t know what to do. I only want to do something. I don’t have any desire to move or do anything. I would do almost anything to quiet my nerves. All they do is run their nails down a chalkboard in my mind, and it makes me feel like each nerve is being jolted by a small electrical shock.

It’s horrible.

I lower my head and rest the tip of my nose on the cold metal of my office desk, enough to feel the pressure but not enough to support my head. I stare directly at the grey desktop under my nose, but my eyes are too close to focus, giving me only a blurry grey blob to look at. I remain this way for a long while as if something or someone is going to come through the door to rescue me.

Rescue me?

From what?

Obviously myself.

I lift my head and stare blankly at the computer monitor on the desk. The monitor stares blankly back. I try to think of things I can do but none of it matters to me. I remain as I am, broken and drowning in sobriety. The worst part is I can hear all those voices again; the ones I shut out with the drugs and alcohol. They wasted no time putting me down again as soon as they had their voices back. The drugs didn’t shut them out completely. It did put them on a level that I could ignore them. Most of them. Some just wouldn’t shut up no matter how much alcohol I wash down my throat.

God I hate them.