Loneliness is being in a deep, pitch black well with steep, rugged walls. The strong stench of mildew fills the well as droplets of moisture seep through the rock. Lingering in the air is a thick, heavy mist that makes my skin sticky and moist.
Disoriented, my breathing becomes heavy and inconsistent. I open my eyes as wide as possible, hoping to discover any form of light, but I am unsuccessful. Frantic thoughts race through my mind as I begin to panic. I let out a scream, yet there is no reply other than echoes reverberating through my ears.
I lean against a wall to keep my body from falling to the ground, as I slip into a state of hopelessness and despair. The frigid rock numbs my body until I hear the faint sound of a voice coming from the opening of the well. This barely audible whisper seems frightened, as if a mother is calling for her missing child.
A bolt of hope shoots through me, as I listen closely to my name being called over and over again. I let out a desperate cry for help with the anticipation of finally being rescued, but the voice grows dim, and eventually fades away into the darkness.
Frustrated and confused, I stare at the darkness in front of me. Streams of tears trickle down my cheeks, leaving salty droplets to rest on my lips. My teeth chatter as the bitter cold mist collides with the wetness of my tear-stained face. I sink to the ground and curl up into the fetal position as I struggle to keep warm.
The only feeling inside me is fear; fear that the loneliness of the deep, black well will hold me forever, never releasing me into the bright world known as happiness. Fear that no one will ever notice the well that has taken me hostage; fear that I will never find a way out.
The darkness is now silent. As I lay helplessly on the ground, I realize that I am the only one who can save me from this terror. No one can do it for me.
This was a paper I wrote in high school - if I'm not mistaken the assignment was to write about a feeling. As I read through it tonight, I began to think about my life in high school and how much I struggled emotionally. Instead of loneliness, I think a more accurate description of what I felt was depression.
In high school I used music and art as my way to escape. The only time I truly felt at ease with myself and the world was when I was sitting in a practice room, playing the piano. I just played whatever came to me, my stress being transformed into healing music with the touch of each key.
To this day I desperately wish I had a piano. There is nothing like feeling the vibration of the wood in your feet, in your hands, in your heart. I created angry music, sad music, happy, and even fun music, and would play for as long as I would be allowed in the room.
While I was a smart kid for knowing that only I could help myself, I don't think I truly understood what that meant until... well, until now. Within the recent past I've felt a calmness come over me, a calm I've been waiting for for too long. I don't feel the desperation of needing to find someone to take care of me emotionally. I don't need the attention of a man to take my mind off the pain I feel now that I am on my own. Life is becoming less painful, and I am more trusting of myself that when the pain arises, I can self-sooth.
While I may not have a piano to create musical interpretations of my emotions, I do have other options. I'm realizing I was born with many talents because they are within me to take care of myself during the most difficult times of my life. Whether it be drawing, painting, photography, writing, or tinkering on my guitar, those are the tools I've been given to survive.
Wow. That last paragraph was an a-ha moment. I just had an awakening so profound it makes me a little giddy. I do have the tools within me to survive... until now I never recognized them as just that.
I was going to write more, but I think I've found the perfect place to stop. Time to snuggle into my bed and marinate in the internal light that just turned on.