Short stories, screenplays & other things.
Tracing Invisible Tides
Tracing Invisible Tides

Tracing Invisible Tides

I am one of those, seemingly impervious to life’s transience, who overlooked the murmurs of mortality, believing in an assured tomorrow.

In the realm of mental health, I’m known as ‘neurodivergent’, a distinct divergence from the norm. Fear once held me in its unyielding grasp, a shadow that never quite dissipated.

My personal inferno began at three, in the dark recesses of a kitchen cabinet, a makeshift haven from unseen night terrors.This childhood sanctuary, though a refuge from imagined monsters, could not shield me from the lingering shadows of fear.

Youthful traumas, uninvited, inflicted wounds that time failed to heal, leaving an enduring imprint on my spirit. This lifelong echo bears a name – PTSD, a clinical term for a maelstrom of haunted memories.

In my sole relationship, I was preyed upon due to my naivety and scars of the past, ensnaring me in a secretive narrative. Confronted with a pivotal decision, I erroneously chose isolation, believing my shadows should not taint the untarnished.

A dark landscape in a world created by fear, loathing, and loneliness.

Thus, I journeyed through life, ensconced in layers – not just physical, but also layers of self-imposed disfigurement, a testament to perceived unworthiness. Since that pivotal encounter, I’ve been a solitary wanderer; human connections remained elusive, like stars just out of reach.

In ’96, my body hinted at its decline with a mask for sleep, yet the message went unheeded.A litany of health woes – prescriptions, ailments, near-death experiences – yet none awakened me from my somnolence. A nervous breakdown, my psyche’s revolt against unending tempests, left me adrift in a sea of turmoil.

The essence of romantic love, its sweet serenade, remains an unsung hymn in the chambers of my heart. Generosity, my innate trait, often left me depleted, a target for those who saw me merely as a means to an end.

Paralyzed by my own psyche, a characteristic of ADD, my potential lay dormant, unrealized.

Fortune once graced me – wealth from stocks, crypto, property, yet these material triumphs rang hollow. Achieving six figures a year without the laurels of academia, I existed, yet it was as if on borrowed time.

I remained a phantom, never emerging from the shadows of my childhood fears.

Intimacy, a foreign concept, became a forgotten relic, a whisper from a bygone era. Echoes of derision, once cast upon me, morphed into a personal doctrine I unwillingly adopted.

Compliance, self-flagellation – a distorted tribute to parental figures, shadows of my past. Apologies to a father, for a life he deemed tarnished by my existence. Guilt, self-loathing, for deeds never mine, became burdens I bore.

In the end, I reside alone, in a realm devoid of light, hope, or warmth, a mere wraith of existence.

I am one of those.

In essence, I am no more.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.