Inner Ugliness

Control

Here I go again. The descent down is dark and quiet and lonely. I detest the slippery walls and the stale air, but

I have no choice. I used to be terrified and fight it. However, I have been here too many times before, and I keep spiraling downward.

It is so far down I forget where the darkness and my soul are separate. I become one with the nothingness.

Each shallow breath releases a bit more of the control I ignorantly thought I had.

Control. How could I ever think I had any of that. Painful resignation tightens in my chest. Stops my breathing. Suffocates me.

Is this it? Is this finally the end? The final breath that will not come in or out of me. Stuck until my eyes bulge and the tears stream out and control scatters out of me lost into the air that cannot save me.

Blackness takes over. I find some peace in that familiar nothingness. Until the pain intensifies and multiplies and demands my attention.

My suffering turns into sounds of jeering laughter. All of the voices attacking me, cackling at me with evil mirth--control. You thought you had control. The laughter echoes I cannot make it stop. I accept defeat and allow the privatepublic accusations and judgement hollow me out.

I deserve it. I am unworthy. I never had a chance. I never had control. And I never will.