The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,600 times in 2013. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.
Voices speak all around you. You shake your head trying to focus. It always feels like there is someone right by your ear whispering but no matter how much you try he does not go away. People smile at you and there is an awkward spasm. It never was so crowded here before.
There are people moving with you when you walk. Dressed in sombre colours. Always pushing you.. Pushing you to do something more, making you feel you’re never good enough. Their long fingers trace patterns on your back as you sit trying to read the same book you’ve been reading for the past year.
There is a restless, almost insane look about you. You move your feet restlessly waiting for something to happen. Everything that was your friend earlier now seems a foe. You want to throw those books lying everywhere, why do people read so much anyway?? That food in the cupboard, the smell nauseates you. You want to do yet your mind turns you away.
You try to pick up a pen to write, it falls, your hand shakes too much. The air seems too suffocating so you move to the balcony. Cool winds hit your face. Life moves on as you remain frozen, watching quietly. That pace irritates you. Those pills in the cupboard you werent supposed to take, have become a daily habit now. You get one more and pop it in. You close your eyes.
You look around, impatient. Wanting to do something yet not having any strength. There is a subtle change in the people around you. They come closer to you, holding their hands out, protecting you. More people wearing black pour into the room trying to get to you. You tear yourself away. The lamp on the table falls and glass shatters. You get down on your knees trying to scream but no voice comes out. Swords are slashing as the people in black come closer and closer to you. You try to crawl on the glass, hurting your wrists but it doesn’t work. They are pulling them towards you. A black door opens while you are dragged on the floor. You hold on to the lamp because the wire pulls you back. Blood soaks your sleeves and tears blind your eyes. You resist so hard. And it doesn’t work. Yet again!
You knock against the furniture, holding on to anything that will make you stay. There are more voices, telling you what to do, how to break free. But why don’t they come and help you? You feel pain and more pain as the lamp cuts through. The door approaches closer and finally you are lifted and thrown into a deep bottomless pit.
You open your eyes and find yourself in the same place you were before. Those voices, they scare people, they scare you. You wonder how long this will last, how many times before they throw you like a rag doll.
Yes, it’s a war. In Your Head.
( inspired by: Schizophrenia)
I am Homeward Bound 