Depressive Cartwheels


Run.
Keep running.
Nothing makes sense.
Just keep on running.
Maybe if I keep ahead…
Maybe if I can outpace it…
I can feel it creeping ever closer.
I feel out of breath, so very tired.
I don’t think I can keep this pace up.
My lungs are burning with exertion, daring me to stop.
At the very least, it keeps me focused on my task.
It’s calling for me by name, but I dare not look back.
I don’t know how it knows me, and I don’t know why I…
I feel my pace begin to slow, as the voice draws ever closer still.
Everything feels so heavy, tiresome, to the point that I just want to lay down…
Stop struggling, you don’t need to try anymore, I hear it whisper, its tone so familiar…
I cry out in pure agony, as I feel the weight of the pursuer come crashing down…
Just let go, it whispers, as I feel the inky blackness begin to choke the life from me…
I need to keep running, I know I need to keep moving forward; I just need to keep… on…
The stray wisp of sunlight streaming through the shuttered blinds catches my attention, and I blink away the muddled thoughts.
I shift in bed a bit, and let my mind drift back to the dream, reliving the hurt, the inevitable failure.
I hear my alarm blare its droning tone, and reach out to silence it, fingers fumbling about for the snooze.
It’s another day, I whisper quietly to myself, as I stare at the red digits on the alarm clock.
Just another day to deal with, another day filled with the inconsequential, the tedious, the painful, the unwanted…
I lay there for a few more minutes, staring blankly at the fan rotating lazily about above.
Come on, you can do this, it’s just another day, get up, just fucking get up…
After a few minutes of delay, I roll out of bed, lurching to my feet.
I stare out at nothing in particular for a while, eyes unfocused, vision blurring.
I don’t know why it’s so much harder to get ready this morning…
A snippet of the dream floats to the forefront of my thoughts.
I shake my head in frustration, and slip on a shirt.
I can feel the tears running down my face, unbidden.
I don’t think I can keep this pace up…
I just feel so tired of it all.
I slowly sit back down into bed.
I can’t keep pretending like this.
Maybe if I just sleep…
Just a little longer.
Nothing makes sense.
I’m tired.

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