"I'm fine."
That has seemed to be my mantra for the past few months.
Fine- the word that means I'm not okay.
Fine- the word that takes a world full of brilliance and fades it into monochrome collections so grey that when you scratch the surface, colors flow from the cracks so vibrant that it creates a mosaic of reds and blues and greens.
Then I realize that the boat I'm in is sinking.
That I'm stuck in the hull of the ship while the colors flood to the ceiling.
The breathing becomes harder. Every breath making me feel as though I am a voodoo doll with pins running through my heart and lungs.
Soon those pins feel like spears.
I am staring through the looking glass back on to my past self.
I begin hate myself for the decisions I made.
I call myself a plethora of names: naive, selfish, ignorant, weak.
I watch every mistake over again. I scream and fight to change my history.
"Turn back! Stop it!"
But underwater screams can't be heard.
It happens all over again.
I make the same choice and reap the same heart shattering consequences.
When the vision over, the suffocating colors swirl and drain out and only I am left, listless on the floor. The only thing moving is the thoughts that spin around in my mind like fish in a bowl.
No direction, no intention of going anywhere but in droplets escaping my eyes and running down my cheeks.
Then it comes.
Warmth.
That single ray of sunshine.
It's then that you know why God created light first.
The celestial beam washes me clean.
The reds and greens and blues that torture me in darkness are fading away into the earth.
That numb feeling of worthless, nonexistence sinks into the soil giving rise to strength that seeps into my pores.
My biomechanical gears and pulleys twist and pull and connect.
Regeneration.
I rise up, with renewed resilience.
Leaving the black, cold night and get ready for my day.
I wipe the last of those blue smudges off my cheeks.
I look in to the mirror and muster a smile.
"I'm going to be fine."