Self-control dripped out my eyes along with tears and pain. As the clock ticked on I slowly lost more and more of myself. I became buried further and further within the graves of sanity. My mind began to shut off and withdraw from the trauma that beset me. It was no longer conscious thought that dictated my movements, or it was not at least the conscious sanity in me that spoke. My body took control and tried to save itself from the agony. My hands tried to drag it out through scratches on my skin turning me savage and thirsty for blood. My breath gasped at the air, begging it to take me away.
Shudders fell through my body and steeled my every muscle. My heart climbed out my chest and hung in the air before me. Its blood rained down on my pain-streaked cheeks and splattered those around me. Rivers of red washed over the ground and further and further from me. Consciousness teased me with an oblivion. It let me feel just enough of its numbness to crave it. But no blackness beset my mind, my body was limp and out of my control but my mind still held itself alive.
I longed for a freedom. I longed to be ripped out of my body and taken away on a breath of wind. Perhaps time would rewind itself.
I used to climb to the top of the tree and stand on a branch swaying in the wind. I would speed down roads standing on the pedals of my bicycle. I would whoop and scream not content to sit down and enjoy the soothing whir of the chain. I would spend hours roaming a few dusty dirt roads longing to have the freedom of the kids around me. I would play soccer with the boys and sling mud in their faces. As I got older I would scramble onto the roof and dance where the slants of the roof would meet. My hands would flow in the air as my feet would tiptoe in synchrony to a favourite alternative rock song that played. I love the open air of possibilities I feel in days spent under golden sunlight.
Then I got more depressed and I got more anxious. No longer was I content to have to wait for somebody to go out with me. I wasn’t content with the small triangle neighbourhood I called home. I wanted to go faster, run harder go further. I longed to break from the restrains of gravity and safety. I wanted to be free. My mind was trapped and so was my body.
In moments of adventure, the freedom of my body is felt in my heart and even whispers in my mind. My pain, my anger, my sadness is all released and it’s just me. I now feel that when I soar down the road on my skateboard. It’s just me, the board and open road. I am like everyone else travelling the road. I am normal. I am a world away from my pain. I am not the girl lying in the damp grass under the cold sky in a pool of pain.
But I don’t know if that kind of freedom will truly set me free. I know that God is the only one who can lift it from my shoulders and heal me. So I will choose to long for the freedom He gives instead. I’ll still play hard and have fun, just longing for Him above my freedom.