Night.

Edward Strange · 10-11-2007, 05:45 PM

I fear the night time, I always have. Not because I'm scared of the dark, or worried that some gribbly monster is going to heave it's terrible bulk out of some dark shadow.
No.
What a fear is something far more sinister than that, something which lurks in an even darker shadow.
The monsters of the mind.

At night, I am overwhelmed by feelings, thoughts emotions, so many strange and terrible ideas racing around in my head it feels like I am drowning in a boiling sea that shifts and twists while burning my mind from the inside out, like someone is pouring molten lead into my ears.

When the midnight hours draw near, I find myself overcome with a sense of foreboding that I am unable to attach anything too or shake from my psyche. I wear it like a poisonous cloak one cannot take off no matter how hard one tries.
Something is wrong here, I think, I know it!, and I look around desperately trying to find this foreign element that is causing me such chagrin. Only to find nothing.
Except perhaps, if this foreign agent is...Me?
Is it so implausible? That amongst all these good, wholesome and happy people, I, I am some infernal intruder who has no place here?

I look at the smiles, listen to the laughing and drunken singing outside of the window. Wishing, longing, to be part of this ignorant euphoria and not forever held in this emotionless sucking void which laid claim to me in all things. Love, life, religion.

Why can't I feel? Surely there must be some other emotion than sadness and pain I can reach? Something other than cold and longing? Why is it only the blood in the toothpaste I can taste?

Is there something wrong with me?

I catch a look in a mirror and see my warped, hunched and twisted malnourished frame. Frail and spotty from years of neglect.
Surely there is nothing wrong with me?

Yes! There is! Oh God! My mind cries out, and I cling to some person in a desperate attempt to find an island of calm in that terrible, sucking void.
But there never is, and I doubt there ever will be.

And so I sit alone, with three words burning on the inside of my eyelids, CRAZY, UGLY, WORTHLESS, taunting me in everlasting torment as I sit in the darkness on my own praying for the sweet release of a dreamless sleep.
Hoping this madness is just because I am tired and in the morning, the daylight will drive away these night shades that torture me so.

And when sleep does claim me, it offers no sanctuary.

When I wake in the morning, I am not sure if I want to be free of the night terrors that visited me in my dreams or to visit them again in the hope they will shed some shred of meaning as to what I should do, what it all means.

I awake in a daze and try to put it behind me, in preparation for the next ordeal...
The next night.

Edward Strange · 10-11-2007, 05:46 PM

Whoa. Having just re-read my little whinge, I've just realised how very... OTT it sounds.
I do apologise for that. ><
Do please feel free to ignore it!

Cyntrox · 10-11-2007, 06:03 PM

I can identify. I see a lot of the same feelings in myself at night - not always, though, but more often than not. That is if I am alone, if I am not, I will become extremely grumpy.

I haven't really found anything that helps against it. But you're not alone.

emeraldlonewoulf · 10-11-2007, 06:14 PM

not hardly. You've struck something basic to consciousness, beyond innocence, in a way that is real. You've hit a Question Mark of life. You realize you want more meaning than facade, more genuine substance, and finding it lacking in your surroundings, you long for the the innocence or happiness that seems apparent in others. Looking inward, you are scared to find there might not be more there than intentions, basic instinctual desires or needs, no more than animal motivation.

On that score, I wouldn't worry. The mere fact you can verbalize the above shows there is something more, some seeking, curious creativity.

In other words, welcome it. It means growth, growing up. (Please do not take offense at that, if you are of adult age. Growing is an important part of staying mentally alive, whatever the age, IMO.) Mental growth is often fertilized by contemplating things within yourself.

Or, I could be readings way too much into it, and gone way "OTT" in trying to understand it. In any case, you've got the beginnings of a decent creative writing piece.

HellforgedX · 10-11-2007, 09:31 PM

I think everyone can identify with this. I call it my face-bursting feeling. It's something like when I have so many ideas and thoughts and wishes and fears running around inside my skull that I feel like I need to peel my face off slowly or it's going to crack and this burning, blinding bio-energy would scream out and destroy the rest of my body and surroundings. It really hurts sometimes. I keep feeling for the seam, but so far nothing. The edges are blurred. I don't know. Good luck, and god speed.

Wormboy · 10-11-2007, 10:15 PM

uhm I'm perfectly happy at night in a pitch black room. I feel better in absolute total darkness than I do during the day.

Edward Strange · 10-12-2007, 08:04 AM

Different strokes of for different folks (although I find the one at shoulder height suffices, ho ho).

Thankyou all for replying, it is nice to know I am not alone.

Underwater Ophelia · 10-12-2007, 10:10 AM

You should write short stories.

d.Nox · 10-12-2007, 01:03 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Underwater Ophelia

You should write short stories.

Indeed. You've got a flair for description.

I agree with emerald. What's you're feeling is pretty basic to the human condition. It's part of you, and trying to deny it, or run from it, is like spiritual castration--maybe you'll get so it doesn't bother you anymore, but at the cost of restricting yourself to mere appearances and shadows.

Or you can accept that this is, for the moment, who you are. If loneliness, pain, and self-loathing are all you can feel, then by god feel it. But the longing you feel for something better is also a true feeling; it is the spark in the darkness. Turn the anguish into fuel for the flame of your longing; lose yourself to the passion for something pure... even if you never find it.

Good luck.

Edward Strange · 10-12-2007, 05:19 PM

Much as I would love to write short stories, I'm afraid I lack the imagination to come with anything more extraordinary than the day to day machine like workings of my own life...
But thankyou for saying so.

Seeing what I wrote, it's like it was written by another person. It's so strange. Despite that though, I still nod and agree with it and what it says because it does describe how I feel...
Not wishing to sound as cliche as to say I should 'embrace the darkness', but if that is really such a central part of who I am, who am I to run from it?
But... Who am I?

Ah! God! So many big questions running around in my mind. It's night time, oddly enough.

d.Nox · 10-12-2007, 07:33 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Edward Strange

Much as I would love to write short stories, I'm afraid I lack the imagination to come with anything more extraordinary than the day to day machine like workings of my own life...

That's often the best kind. Witness James Joyce, Kafka, Dostoyevsky, Burroughs, and $DEITY knows what others. ...Though I guess most of these were more into novels.

Graveyard.Crow · 10-12-2007, 07:47 PM

I can identify with this so much.
I know it doesn't help, but I just wanted to say.

HumanePain · 10-12-2007, 07:53 PM

To endure oneself is one of the greatest challenges in life. I forget who said that, some writer, not me.

Anyway, as it has been said before me, you are not alone in experiencing those feelings when you go to bed at night.

Right now at least the feelings are vague, persecution without charges being leveled against you, fear of knowing you are in something larger than yourself, but your headlamps are dim and you can only feel what is immediately around you, and it feels weird, and you can't see the miles of darkness beyond your vision.

Wait until you are older, and the persecuting voices accuse you of specific crimes "why didn't you help your sister before she died? Huh? HUH? Why didn't you talk to Derek before he killed himself, huh? HUH?", wait until they drive you to the doctor and they prescribe happy pills.

Then you gradually learn how your mind works, it processes what you feed it, so you learn to feed it good things before turning out the light, to read Poe and Radcliffe and Johnson and Frost and Emerson and all the rest, all while listening to good music, then the nights are not so bad, you go to sleep with pleasant images and thoughts, and the darkness isn't so bad anymore.

It is a personal journey for everyone, what works for me may not work for you Edward, but it is worth exploring.

Best of luck to you my lad.

Edward Strange · 10-13-2007, 07:44 AM

That's really put things in perspective HumanePain, thankyou very much! I think I can actually take 'steps' towards self betterment. Before it felt like trying to climb a mountain... And not knowing where to begin.

But now it still feels like climbing a mountain, but someone has given you a map and a glucose bar.
So yes, thank you.

And thankyou everyone else! It means a great deal to know I am not alone and that I can connect and relate to such wonderful people as yourselves by means of our unconnectivity.
Thank you all so for your solidarity.