I remember when you were in the hospital. After your Breakdown. Or during. When you started painting. I remember this one painting you did. It was a storm. Huge sweeping strokes of black and grey. It was dark and ominous and one was immediately drawn to the small figure in the centre. Tiny, just dwarfed by it. Smaller strokes. Almost timid. Even though there were no features, I could sense the fear. Really feel it. The overwhelming panic and sadness. I remember at the time, being so sad for you. Understanding immediately that the voices in your head were as powerful as that storm. The voices that told you that this was never going to get better, than you would never be 'you' again.
I was thinking about that picture. About storms. About the rain. About where I am right now. See, I've always loved storms. I'd smell the rain and be filled with such a feeling of exhileration, such excitement. As though all of my senses were on fire and I was alive. I'd watch it come overhead. Will the sky to open up and deliver to us that downpour. Anticipate such powerful claps of thunder.
I'd stand outside and let it wash over me.
But now, anything more than a gentle shower, has me on edge. I feel agitated. Afraid. Not of the storm itself. Just afraid. I can't stop moving my hands or my legs. I sit and bring my knees up to my chin. I hug my legs and will the rain to be on it's way. The darker the room is, the darker I feel. The louder the rain, the louder my panic.
Why? Why would someone who has for so long craved the rain, be so afraid of it now? The smell of rain sends my heart racing.
And then I was thinking this morning. You know when the rain gets loud? Loud so that you can't really hear anything else? It demands your attention. It demands to be heard, above all else? I feel like that's my mind. These thoughts, this panic. It's just loud enough that I find it hard to hear anything else. I can function, of course. To everyone else, things look fine. I look like I'm coping. But the rain is there. I'm distracted. Seems that only I can hear it, but I'd swear it is getting louder.
Wow. This probably makes no sense to anyone but me. I just need to know it gets better. I've been here before. I got better. Really better, not this pretend better I have right now.
Can't rain forever, can it?