Tonight, it is a full moon but I cannot see the light in this room. Even the moon cannot shine through the gloom that drapes around me like a cloak. Beside the window, I hear a toad’s croak being echoed by her mates as if mocking my inability to find one. But finding a mate is the least of my problems, even if I want to, none of my age mates are my mates, and I might have to settle for someone outside my circle.
My mind is not empty tonight, it feels like I am floating in a building which collapsed in space. I can feel the debris of my life moving around me in slow motion and it gives me an illusion of control—as if I can grab and assemble—but I know it for what it is. The darkness edges closer from the edges of the room and I feel the gloom like it is solid. I can reach out my hands and touch solid darkness. I feel trapped.
My breath comes out in tiny gasps as if oxygen is being stolen from me, just like my dreams. The bed feels like a coffin and I feel as if I am six feet under.
Tonight, it is not a bottomless hole or numbness. Tonight, it is a rush of different emotions—as if my demons are playing catch with me.