Muted

It’s 3:00 pm and I can feel that my brain has been slowly shutting down over the past two hours. It’s quite a scary feeling really. Why don’t I have have control over my own head?

I can feel it getting worse by the second. I’ve gone running up and down the stairwell, I’ve taken a break from the computer, I’ve had water and still I feel as if my brain is slipping away from me. I could just sit and do nothing. I am becoming nothing.

I am not here sitting at my desk, taking notes, doing work, I am sinking  down through the earth. The ground does not touch me but it envelopes me. I am not trapped but I can’t get out. I am safe and it is quiet.

My head is up in the sky but there is no wind. I can’t see for miles. I think my eyes are open but I can’t see at all.

My head is not cold. It is in a charcoal grey cloud but it is not wet. My head is solid but melting. Everything is fuzzy and muted; sounds, smells, sights. Everything is numb.

It tastes like that moment when you realise you haven’t spoken anything or even opened your mouth to pretend to in a very long time. It’s a strange comfort.

I feel if I fell off my chair and onto the hard floor that the jolt would bring my body up out of the earth and my head down out of the stormy rain cloud and they’d be reunited.

But then, what would I be?

 

Lizzie X