Fighting demons

I do not remember the last time I felt remotely close to okay. When was the last time I woke up and wasn’t in pain- one way or another? When was the last time I fell into an easy slumber? The last time nightmares and reality did not meet in a fuzzy blur?  

It was raining. The car in front was speeding. It turned a corner and turtle-turned. Tossed and turned. Dead. I tossed and turned. I woke up.

Heart surgery. 50/50 survival chance, and indefinite unconsciousness. I saw her face. I entered the operation theatre. But where were my legs? I woke up.

There was a pop. I started. Beam of light. Palpitation. Wish it’d stop. Not the palpitation. The heartbeat, I mean. 3am. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Obsessing. Scrolling more pages. I switched it off. But I cannot switch guilt off, not even in dreams. I am my own enemy.

Shoes, car keys. Drive. Drive, just drive. I’m here. Face in my hands, bowed over.

I am tearing. Gagging and then gasping. For air? Sanity? Jesus. These demons are ready to catch me if I fell. Take these thoughts. Take them, please. There are trains and trains of them and the tracks never end. Kill them. Kill them together with intelligence if you will.

Hail Mary full of grace. Agony. I see my thoughts fall bright red upon the ground. Scourging. And then  I see a crown. Euphorbia milli. A crown of thorns in place of bright red flowers, mockery in place of honour.

The past year throbbed as a single pulse. I could see it rise gently, and then a thorn pierced through a vein and then, there was none. My insanity ceased to be mine.