Diary of a Dreamer

Overthinker

It's sometime in the early morning. A time when most sane people are fast asleep. But I'm wide awake. Curled up tight in a ball. Hands pressed over my ears. As if that will help. My mind is a warzone. A catastrophe of deadly thoughts and memories. Like a time traveler, I am transported to the past, present, and future. Round, round, round I go like a carousel. This horse is called Hell, and there is no getting off its fiery back. I'm taken away, far away, from what's sane. Down I go into the depths of insanity. Lost words, troubled words, things long forgotten rise up from their shallow graves to greet me. They speak to me in the language of Lies. Telling me what I don't want to hear. You're ugly, you're worthless, just go die. I know I shouldn't listen. But their voices are rich as wine, and I find myself taking too many sips. I follow the painful song through a forest filled with monsters. Shadows of branches reach out like tentacles to grab my ankles, crows screech above like cries for help, and wolves howl in anguish around me. I am no longer in my bedroom. I have fallen victim to the deadliest thing on this Earth. My mind. There is no escape in a maze that has no end. Every turn leads me to something I don't want to see. So I run. Even when bony hands break through the ground and trip me, I run. Even when I fall to my knees and feel like this is the end, I get up and run. I don't stop. I can't stop. And somehow I find myself back where I started. Lying awake in my bedroom, with the first few rays of run peeking above the horizon. It's a new day. A fresh start. But not for me. Never for me. The thoughts don't stop. My mind never quiets. I'm in a constant state of drowning, but no one sees or hears me suffering. So I put on my biggest smile, tune out my mind with music, and go on my day like everything is fine. But as soon as I find myself back here, prisoner to these four walls, the torture begins once again. There really is no escape from a mind that never shuts up.