The greatest lonely.

Im out in the open, unarmed and vulnerable. Here I go as i swallow my fear and raise my chest that is filled with naive hope and wishes. My vision slowly creeps from the pavement of this maze to the straight and narrow path before me. My palms are sweating and my heart beats with a purpose. My brain is firing anxiety ceaselessly; i can feel it in every cell. I reluctantly type each letter as my fingers start stiff like concrete. Every step i take now leaves a footprint in the earth that never forgets where ive gone. My face once filled with blood turns white like an untouched canvas. This is the art that is my life.

The sun rises above me and i am already filled with doubts for the day as the sun looks down on me. It patronizes me with its might, power and with its ironically life giving quality. These sleepless eyes of mine move in slow motion as i analyse every atom inside me. This world was made far too big for me, for me to comprehend. There are too many things to do today that im almost sure i'll do nothing. I have to eat, i have to walk, i have to think, i have to shower, i have to interact, i have to breathe. I have to send blood around my body, i have to undergo cellular repair, i have to die in microscopic amounts. My eyes finally catch some rest at its last moment and open once again in the not-so-morning. People are working, couples are loving, industries are producing, minds are collaborating... Im still being pushed by gravity deeper and deeper into this bed.

I lift my stiff limbs in attempts to withdrawl myself from this loathing and pitiful state. It feels like im crawling out of bed, with every tensed muscle heaving me in efforts to live. The carpet feels foreign and uninviting as i walk all over it with my bare feet. There is no need to wash my face and the salty drops from a few hours ago have already irritated it enough. Making my way downstairs I lift my metal legs one at a time and  end up in the kitchen oh so hesitantly. The morn is over and midday passed me without warning. I feel weak, brittle, and eternally damaged. My mouth is dry with an unquenchable thirst. I don't want to be here, surrounded by food; my greatest love and fear. It haunts me as i walk away. Calling me names, making me feel inadequate, undeserving, selfish but mostly distant.

 Its so hard to feel real when reality doesnt even bother to greet me. He merely whisps past me and i try to grab its ghost of what was.

Although its already the afternoon i feel i must exert effort into starting my day. I dont want to engulf myself with those condescending foods, so i wont; I go on without. Already, my mind is terrorized by what should be of today, of what could be, what might be and what hasn't.

Sit down Mona, think, think,think, think think think. On a cloud I venture into my mind and all its complex' terrain. Most of it is foreign though its scent is familiar. Im on new grounds but it feels the same. New ideas stained with the past.. This merry-go ride isnt as enjoyable or sophisticated as i once thought. I just go around, around and around. My psychological motion sickness kicks in and i want to get off. The more i try, the faster it goes. I can't just jump off this thought-ride, i cant even ask the controller to make it stop. I just have to sit and endure. Oh its been a while and i feel sick. The more sick i feel, the slower the ride goes and i take the first opportunity and run far away into the fog of apathy.

If only my body always worked this quickly, i would travel through the streets with light-speed. Im rushing into the bathroom to get rid of the thoughts, the emotions and discord within myself. Its all gone, its gone for now. Into the toilet, away from sight and away from mind.

My stomach now feels like a black-pit sinking into itself. Ive got to eat, its only biological right? No, its psychological. I enter into the kitchens territory and begin my quest of 'nutrition'. Rice, apples, noodles, cottage cheese, mushrooms, carbs, protein, iron, calories and calories and calories. I get side-tracked and lose my focus. The image of what was once an innocent apple turns into numbers and figures. The rice turns into images of my belly growing large and stretched. Everything seems to hard to approach, i need to eat but all i end up doing is fantastical maths. I close my eyes but this hardly helps. Oh dear, here comes the frustration and agony again. My dear old enemy has come to visit once again, but it feels like it never even left. I hate it, i wish i could just strangle it, suffocate it but i cant. This enemy of mine is an idea, and you cant kill an idea. An idea of perfection, of control, revenge, happiness and eternal releif from this self-created prison. It's so far from that, Mona you know this already. In spite of my own pathetic thoughts i rage at my enemy; food. I chew it to death, i drown it in water, i swallow it into the acidic pits of myself.

I only just now notice that it is the late-afternoon as the hour-alert on my phone goes off. That dreaded sound makes me ears bleed. I look down at the ground where my thoughts lay, each in individual graves just waiting to be resurrected.

My stomach is as heavy and full as a potato sack and i want it to disappear, and so it does. Every last little bit of that furious-filled-feed ends up where it deserves; back out of me where it came from; the earth. What am i doing, Mona? Why wont this stupid cycle just stop? No, don't worry, that only makes things worse. Tomorrow, tomorrow will be better.

Must be productive, must be productive even though i feel like a slug. But what is there i can possibly do, that will make even a small difference in my day. No, its not about me, its about everyone else. What can i do to make someone elses' day better or at least different. Noone cares about what i do anyway, theres no use. Id rather stay out of the way back into my coffin-bed.

And so i go, sink in further and further into the depths of my mind and of this bed. Back into eternity i go, and from eternity i will come again. Oh its this life, its this lonely life that i dont know how to befriend.

This greatest lonely.

No, don't worry, that only makes things worse. tomorrow, tomorrow will be better.

Dr.Nourozi - Diagnoses: Great Lonely.