Dark Therapy

Scribbles

"Are you alright?" She asked, her face scrunched up in worry.

He simply shrugged, his face drawn as he stared up at the sky, "I've endured another day it seems."

He sighed, a sigh so heavy, like stones chained to a man drowning underwater.
Blinking slowly, trying and failing to clear the haze that seemed to always be stuck in his eyes these days, he continued, his voice rough with the tears that threatened to choke them,
"I keep on living. I have lived another day. My best record, one which I will probably behest tomorrow. I keep enduring but like all broken things, I do not know for how long I can keep on."

His voice kept drifting, winding down like an old grandfather clock.

He clenched his fingers, nails biting into skin, hoping the pain would clear his mind as he glanced at her, and continued, "I lie on my bed at night clutching at my chest hoping to somehow squeeze all the anxiety out. I lay awake wondering what is there to life other than waiting for the weekend to roll around, only to realize it was never waiting for you. Time never waits for you."

He looked at her bleakly, trying to find an answer to his misery.
He found none.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the hopelessness that was crawling its way through his veins. Only to accept it as he continued speaking,
"What is there to life, than this endless cycle of eating, sleeping and trying to earn your bread for a life you despise? This misery and depression that you keep fighting with a ember of hope."

"I hate it."

He was angry now, resentment coursing through his bloodstream, and yet—yet he was tired.

So tired.

"I hate it", he repeated his voice small and broken.

She looked on helplessly as he closed his eyes and lay down on the wet ground, as he let his shoulders loose sagging against the dead earth. He took a deep breath as he let every emotion go.

Just void.
That's all he wanted.

"I hate it. I hate having to endure but I do it anyway."

"What a messed up circus show."

- A.A