One, two, three, four. Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t let yourself slip out of reality. Five, six, seven, eight. Keep your head on straight. Beat. Breathe, damn it, breathe! Beat. And there I go… My brain tends to be in a separate vessel than my body itself. The world has gone black, but I am still racing through problem after problem. I can hear the world around me, but speaking, moving and even breathing isn’t an option.
The world is cruel to those with the biggest hearts. We push and pull as others come to us for guidance. We coach, support and promise sanctity, but when does that come for us? Darkness. Nothing but darkness as I dissociate from the existence of those around me. I don’t know what started it. Be it the mental illness or the physical health withering, my mind and body have banded together to build a defense mechanism to remove me from the world momentarily.
Sometimes it’s quick. Other times I feel like I’ve been out for hours when it’s only been minutes. I guess it comes with the stress of living in the realm of perfectionism when perfection doesn’t exist. No matter the emotion, the second I am overwhelmed, I am gone from this earth. Fear, drop. Sadness, dissociate. Stress – believe me, that’s when I hit the floor quickest.
I don’t know what it is, but me and this earth currently do not mix. That is not out of the ordinary. Nothing with me is ordinary, to say the least. I count my steps until they’re perfect. Odd numbers scare me. If it isn’t perfect, it’s wrong. Beat. Well, unless someone else does it, because they’re giving it their all. It’s always right if it’s someone else, but when it’s me, in my mind, it’s never perfect. And why? Oh, right. Beat. Perfectionism is a twisted and nonexistent societal pressure that I will always fail to achieve. And boy, does failure terrify me.