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  • Writer's pictureMelissa

A Way Out?

Updated: May 8, 2022

I feel like the more I search, the more lost I get.

The more I try to dig, the more dust I kick up, which blurs my vision and gives my entire existence a sense of surreality. Of not being here. Of watching life floating by with me at the very periphery of it all.

The more I try to understand, to delve into the complexity of it all, and the more pathways I create in my brain — they become a network in which I get completely lost. I’m dazed by all the entrances, the exits, the detours, and I completely lose my bearings.

The deeper I go into my psyche, the vaguer things become, and soon I feel like I’ve been swallowed by the mouth of mental illness itself.

Like I’m going deeper into the forest.

Like I’ve fallen into a place of no return.

I shouldn’t be feeling so woozy now.

I’m supposed to be full of insight. I’m supposed to be bright-eyed with “aha moments” and enlightening paradigm shifts.

I’m supposed to be seeing lights shining at the far ends of tunnels.

Instead I go deeper into the tunnel. It gets darker. It splits off in a million directions.

And I’m not sure there’s a way out.

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