The downward spiral

The object continues to be in the state of motion or in the state of rest until and unless an external force is applied to it.

This classic law of Newtonian motion finds its application in the state of mind as well.

Woke up in the morning with a greeting of a canopy of sunshine peeking through the blue curtains of my room. Pulled myself out of bed and dragged myself in front of the mirror. A smile at myself and got started with the day

Groomed hair and wore pressed shirt tucked into a dark shade of trousers and a shining watch to give me a reference of time. Put on my spectacles and set out for the day.

The kid on the street wishes me, I hear the woman across the street yelling at her hungover husband and a mother is trashing her son for being lethargic as the bus is about to come to pick him up to school.

After an awful and dreadful lot of journey, I arrive at the destination.

I stand on the cliff, on the verge of a deep spiral dark realm. A realm with capabilities of bending realities, truth and facts. I turn behind and stands there she holding a gun directed to my heart with a finger on the trigger.

I look into her eyes, beg her not to pull the trigger. Stands there she deaf and a moment later I find myself spiralling down the cliff.

The demons from the corners start appearing, haunting me to death. There is nothing for me to hold and stop me from falling further. The darkest and deepest fears come in front revealing the worst of their forms.

I start to question my existence. I forget that I am an illness second and a human first.

There is a war inside and outside of my head and I am drowning in regret. My body is missing pieces and I can’t pull it all together.

The war is turning me into stone and my arms tied to the shackles of reality and regret.

Should I have bought a 10-inch knife and carve my veins or should I have jumped into an 89 feet deep river?

This is not the reason for which I was born, why this suffering? Suicide is not the answer. Because it doesn’t end the pain. It transfers to another. I’d not wish the worst of my enemies to experience this. This is gruesome, cruel and dreadful.

What is the guarantee that there is happiness beyond life? What if it becomes just another nightmare?

The pain just doesn’t go away. I just have to make a room for it. Need to make that a part of me and make me complete.

Down I go and hit a solid rock bottom and I shatter into a million pieces. I accept my fate and pull myself together and back to home.

I go to bed while I accept my reality. That I need to experience this all over again in my dreams and wake up to the same day. To groom and get back to shatter myself into a million pieces, again.