There is darkness all around, a suffocating, yet expansive darkness. It’s like a black hole: cold, uninviting, and empty. A noise, what is it? Voices… Laughter… I hear people, I know they’re right in front of me, but where? I can hear them, but, somehow, I see no one in this dark void. I see nothing, except a path in front of me, distinguished from the surrounding area vaguely by dull, gray lines, resembling stones you would see separating a lawn from a sidewalk in the suburbs. One step forward, two steps forward. I start running, desperate to get to the end of the path, scared of where I am and where I’m not all at once. Who’s yelling? Is that me? It must be, that voice is so clear. Where’s the end? The path keeps building itself as I run forward, winding around nothing. I stop, spinning around in circles, looking for anyone, screaming for anyone, but, still, there is no one. It’s just me, trapped in my head.
I experience the most peculiar loneliness in the company of others, ever since high school. Surely, being with other people should make the path brighter, right? Or more tolerable to be confined to? One would think this path becomes a skeleton in the back of the closet that is my mind when I’m laughing with friends. But it doesn’t, it only shifts in the center of my conscious to make space for the other thoughts rushing by, weaving in front and between them to remind me of the lurking darkness in my head. So, I’m stuck watching a cinematic of myself with other people. In the oddest way, it feels like I’m not really there. Depersonalization, it’s called, by professionals and the dictionary. To me, it’s simply a bad movie with an uninteresting main character, no real development, and too much repetition.
Obviously, there’s a difference between feeling depressed and having depression, kind of like how there’s a difference between being friends and being friendly. I was afraid of friendship, I still am. I’m afraid of anything intimate, really, and, if you were to ask my old therapist, I’m sure she’d say those feelings stem from my insecurities and lack of stability. I moved around a lot when I was younger, so I never really held onto friends. That’s fine, never seemed like an issue… until I started walking down that path, until that path became a part of me. Abruptly, I was alone in a new way, even having friends felt like having no one. Despite the people around me, I was completely alone on a cold, dark path that lead nowhere, but ran in both directions forever, existing out of sight to everyone but me, since it was and continues to simply be the constant state of my own mind.
With time, I came to realize that this road will never be flooded with light, or bright colors, or other people for that matter, but that doesn’t mean it has to be dreadful and scary. If I want, it occurs to me, I can walk along the beach, my mind would allow for that. Of course, it’s night time, whenever I imagine it.It’s like sitting at a beach on a spring night, with clouds whisping around my head to block out the light of the moon. There’s no moon in sight, but there is water, lapping at the sides of the walk way, just out of reach. The path becomes wood, resembling a boardwalk, and the surrounding area has tints of the deepest shades of blue and gray. This only occurs in quiet moments though, when I am at peace or, at least mostly, relaxed. At times like those, I feel like I can stop walking, sit down and enjoy watching the world I’m stuck in become new. This is the one moment I find peace in being lonely.
