Another Day Unlived

Photo by Rayson Tan via Unsplash

My ceiling is blank as it’s ever been; white, textured, unmoving, cold…

It doesn’t bring joy. Only consistency.

Nothing moves or disturbs the blankness.

And then I hear a noise from outside;

someone shouting or a bird chirping.

My skin itches in agitation and I squeeze my eyes shut…

It’s 12pm and you’re still in bed. And you lost your job this week. How dare you close your eyes?

This thought only makes me shut them harder. Almost as if sealing my lids might block my own brain from terrorizing me.

No such luck. The thoughts simply bang around like a pinball, ricocheting with aggressive echoes as I scratch my agitated skin again.

Eventually, I do doze off again.

But I don’t feel rested.

Every time I wake, anxiety attacks again and I’m forced to slam my eyelids together again.

Doze. Awake. Panic. Rinse. Repeat.

An endless cycle. And I fear I’ll never be fully free of it.




Classical Singer & Amateur Prose Writer

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Ada J. Raven

Ada J. Raven

Classical Singer & Amateur Prose Writer

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