Wave Break

Churning.

Everything is churning.

I feel like a rowboat with no oars doing its best to stay afloat and upright amidst the flurry of cresting waves. Everything that happens is just another wave, each bigger than the last, fueled by its predecessors as it crashes down on me.

Some waves raise me into the sky, allowing me to glimpse the still ocean in the distance for just a minute. A short high, a sense of peace, until the next wave knocks me from aloft. Most waves crash down on my head, sending me reeling underwater or into the lowest part of the parabola, isolated from the calm that surrounds. I am perpetually stuck in this storm, separated from the peace that's tantalizingly close but just out of reach. Lost in the blur of the world around me, surrounded by towering waves ever present and ever threatening.

I'm trapped inside my own mind, trapped in a hollow shell with no escape no matter how much I beat at the walls, crying out for relief.

Plaster a false smile on the outside, paint it bright like a carnival mask. A farce to present the unwitting world. Stumble through the day, muffling the sounds of the storm inside and pushing away anyone who might get close enough to hear.

Speak quietly so the sound doesn't leak from my mouth. Keep my eyes down so the clouds are hidden from the onlookers. Settle some headphones over my ears to contain the sound of the crashing waves. To keep sound in. Keep the world out.

Pressure builds in my head. It's creeping towards its peak, waiting for a chance to explode. One more crashing wave hitting my brow and it might just--

BOOM.