Scraps & Fragments

The Dark

I am afraid of the dark.
I am afraid of the nothingness that expands in front of me as I lie in bed at night, seemingly endless and deafening.
I am afraid of the things that may lurk within it; not just monsters, but the thoughts that creep inside my head as I'm laying there surrounded by the pitch black.
I'm not just afraid of the physical darkness, I'm afraid of the darkness in my own mind, the thoughts that tell me awful things about myself; things I should've done or didn't do or what I should be doing to fix everything that is wrong with me.
I'm afraid of the dark not just because of what I can't see, but because of the thoughts that come with it that I can never seem to stop.
I am afraid of the darkness because it reminds me of every other thing I fear.
I hate that you can't see where you're going. If you close your eyes, you still see pitch black. Nothing looks familiar anymore and you can't even see your own hand in front of your face, so you don't know if the path you're walking on is the right one, or even if you're on a path at all. You're blindly walking around, just hoping that someone finds you and is able to walk you out of the mess you're in.
I hate the loneliness that comes with it. I hate that you feel lost in your own mind and that you feel so distant from everyone in your life.
I hate that you're stuck in the never-ending darkness when it seems like everyone else in your life can find their way out so easily. I hate that you feel guilty for asking for help because everyone else is able to find the light, so why can't you? Why can't you pull yourself out of it?
I hate that your hands and feet go numb with cold and you can't even tell which way is up and which way is down anymore. I hate that you feel disoriented. I hate that people tell you to just open your eyes, but you don't have the heart to tell them it doesn't make a difference. You still see nothing but black.