Circle

There's so many cycles.
The cycle of life.
The cycle of abuse.
The cycle of doubt.
The cycle of depression.

I've been stuck in that last one for a while.

My cycle gives no warnings. My cycle has no reason. My cycle is an attacker, an abuser, and doesn't take into account anything but its own heinous intentions.

Yesterday my day was fine. I had dance practice from 1-6, and then had a break until we started again from 9-11. At 6 I drove to my studio to work on my own piece during my break.
But I couldn't get out of the car.
I was just sad.
For no reason at all.

So I sat there for a while, being sad.
And then I started to cry.
And then I started to bang my head against the wall.
And then I started to scream.
And then I wanted to cut.
And then I realized I couldn't move, so I couldn't cut, so I dug my nails into my skin instead.
And then I felt the hands.

The hands wouldn't let go. They were so strong. Every time they visit, they are stronger.
And every time they visit, I am weaker.

And the hands' grip would tighten and I couldn't breathe.

Literally. Not metaphorically.

I. Could. Not. Breathe.

It was as if I was drowning in air. My lungs were closing. My eyes were blurring. My face would turn blue. And at last I would manage a desperate gulp of air and start screaming for help before the hands gripped tighter and I lost my air again.

It was like someone was in the car with me.
Trying to kill me.
They got so close...

Finally my dad found me and brought me into the house. My murderer had been attempting to kill me for about 45 minutes at this point. He brought me on the couch and put a blanket on me and I just cried and cried. I was whimpering and trying to not scream because I didn't want my killer to hear me and find me and choke me again. So I whimpered and my breath was hitching and I couldn't see straight and finally I managed to stop the whimpering so I just breathed.
And the numb feeling started. At my toes and my fingertips, like always.
And my head was spinning because of all the crying and adrenaline and fear. And the numbness feeling consumed my entire body and my mind was spinning uncontrollably and suddenly I felt as if I was becoming undone, becoming nothing, becoming the furniture, becoming a vegetable, becoming--not dead--but nonexistent.
I liked that feeling. I wanted it to stay.
Nonexistent.
Peaceful.
Then I fell asleep. Somehow I ended up at home.

I slept all day today. That always happens. The cycle is exhausting.
I couldn't speak for most of the day either. That happens, too.

The venom hit my heart. It took a little piece away from it. That's what happens in the cycle. It's a sickness, I have to wait and just let it work through my system before I can be better again. Once it comes on there's no stopping it midway. I just have to wait. Sleep it off. Hope I don't kill myself in the process.

I know the cycle is over when I can tell myself "I am okay. Everything is okay."
Then I can go back to being normal. Then I can go back to waiting for the next cycle to hit.

Until then, I wait.

-Beaskie