Gray Skies

The Bucket

Chapter 2 The bucket

Some people have so much pain inside them, they can cry at will. No matter how much you try to bury your past, it always claws its way to the surface. Mental scars and emotional disfigurements are souvenirs your never lose.

The leave me alone syndrome strikes when least expected. With no apparent reason or prior warning. It could happen with you sat down watching a touch of frost or Fawlty Towers or chilling with some friends.

Metaphorically speaking, it can be assumed as a bucket of worries...Your mind is the bucket; your worries are the translucent liquids that fill the container up.

Hard, sure of yourself, nothing can get you down. You hold it inside.

The bucket gets full and starts to overflow, you never see it coming because its clear, no measurements on the side of the container, no ball cock to gently rest on the surface and close the valve to the self destruct button as it gets filled up to the rim. You quickly put a lid on it, trying desperately to stop the viscous liquid from drowning the bucket.

The metaphorical lid for the bucket...is your condition

It takes a fraction of a second, just a thought, the loss of a close one, reminisce of an old flame, a song, a missed job opportunity, an old mate, or anything that is related to the keystone issue. All of a sudden you are pushed into oblivion of confusion and panic. You can feel yourself spinning, falling into a pit which seems bottomless, like a sky diver jumping off a plane not realising that he’s moving at 200 feet per second closer to the ground. A parachute, a savior, is all that lies between his survival and a futile 999 call. Fully awake, your eyes go into one of the stages of sleep, the R.E.M and before you know it, you break your fall landing into the thick murky liquid and find yourself drenched in it and you know drying up will take more then just a peg and a clothes line. You go into hiding or depression. You don’t want any more, you want to be left alone.Your cocoon starts to spin around you, slowly but surely, it engulfs you.

Brushing “It” under the carpet only works for a little while, sooner or later the mound underneath builds up and you end up tripping on it, hurting yourself, and others around you