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.