No one’s dead and no one’s dying

by DannyUK

No one’s dead and no one’s dying


That knowledge doesn’t stop the feeling of being punched in the stomach, or that someone is sitting on your chest. It doesn’t prevent the tears from forming. It never makes you feel less of a failure, or less like an idiot.

The black thoughts don’t stop. The darkness continues to encompass your brain, your actions, your beliefs.

Your world continues to feel at an end.  You convince yourself not to listen to the ever-worsening inner voice that tries to convince you of your worthlessness. That tells you how much better everyone and everything would be without your stain of an existence.

And you can’t argue with it. You’re broken, you’re weak and a million thoughts - a million ideas, even - fill your mind, every single solitary one of them terrible in so many ways. Yet they seem comforting.

In the black grip of whatever it is that has tipped your scales the wrong way this time, and whatever semblance of goodness and brightness that shines your way, things make sense in ways they shouldn’t do. And sometimes all you can do is repeat and repeat and repeat: No one’s dead. No one’s dying.

And you grip that safety rail as tightly as possible.

And you cling.

And you repeat. Until the words ring true. Until they save you. Until next time. Until someone is dead. Or someone is dying.

Then you need to find another prayer to chant. But until that day, until that mortal realisation you hear yourself saying it again.

No one’s dead. No one’s dying.


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