Day Twenty-nine of my #30DayChallenge and I’M ITCHY!
It turns out I didn’t have an infestation of fleas. Merely an allergic reaction to some new washing powder. I didn’t know humans could be so itchy! This is unfair!
Day Twenty-nine of my #30DayChallenge and I’M ITCHY!
It turns out I didn’t have an infestation of fleas. Merely an allergic reaction to some new washing powder. I didn’t know humans could be so itchy! This is unfair!
Day Nine of my 30 Day Challenge and I’ve successfully beaten my Monday funk. I’ve stopped my sulk in its tracks, and I’m hitting the writing hard! Screw you Monday!
Words are a thing.
We use them for expressing how we feel, most of the time at least. The problem is, what happens when what you are feeling is so bundled up and curled in upon yourself that you have no words? What happens then? What if you are feeling so much that you are just overwhelmed with it all and want to hide away from everything? What can words do then?
Words become sounds in that situation. They become screams and groans, howls and sobs. They become scrunched up stomach muscles and explosions of tears. They change into confused glances and worried nails, colours and swirling images in your mind. They choke you and cause lumps in your throat that make you have to swallow back what you wanted to say.
You have no words when your mind steals them from you. You become your own prison and your own torturer. Nothing can set it right because you have no way of saying what it is that is wrong. After you have kept the words squashed down and captive for a while they start to lose all sense of meaning. They start to become fearful and try to hide away when you begin to feel like you might be able to say something. They skitter like scared little spiders across your brain, into the dark places within your mind. They like the dark places. It’s safe there and they are amongst company that feels the same as they do.
The words become so good at hiding from you that you begin to wonder if they will ever come out. All you can do is cry and scream, and wonder why, why me? Why do I have to feel so much? Why do I have to hurt? Why do I have to love? Why can’t I be free from this? Why won’t the words just come out? Why do I have to be so scared?
Continue reading Journal: Words