ILLUMINATION | MENTAL HEALTH | POETRY
Shadows in a Mind’s Maze
A journey through a mind grappling with ADHD and anxiety, where every memory is a labyrinth and silence is a distant dream.
Linger for 30 seconds, and scroll to the end, 30 seconds of your time brings joy. Clap, highlight, and share your thoughts.
Lost in a maze of thoughts, unbidden, Memories like ghosts, long ago hidden. In the stillness of night, they come uninvited, Ghosts of the past, endlessly reignited.
“Can’t shake these echoes from long ago,” I mutter, pacing, my thoughts in tow. Walls of my mind, painted in distress, Each memory a mark of past duress.
Anxiety, a tempest, wild and untamed, Raging within, never to be named. It whispers of fears, of times long gone, In its grip, I am solitary, alone.
“Remember that day?” Anxiety sneers, Dragging forth memories, igniting fears. A schoolyard taunt, a fall, a scrape, In this mental theatre, there’s no escape.
“Stop,” I plea to the empty air, My voice a shield, brittle and bare. Sleep, a stranger, eludes my grasp, In its absence, I audibly gasp.
Nights are a canvas for anxiety’s art, Each stroke a pang in my weary heart. Tossing, turning, in my lonely bed, With these unquiet ghosts in my head.
“Why now?” I ask, to no one in particular, Conversations with shadows, my nightly ritual. The clock ticks on, a reminder of time, In its rhythm, I seek a reason, a rhyme.
A friend once said, “It’s all in your head.” But they don’t see the turmoil, the dread. “It’s not real,” they claim, but oh, how it feels, In the throes of the night, it relentlessly steals.
My peace, my calm, scattered away, Leaving me in disarray. In the mirror, a face, weary and worn, Battling shadows from dusk till dawn.
But amidst this chaos, a spark of hope, A tiny light in the dark, helping me cope. Words of a therapist, gentle and kind, Seeking to soothe my turbulent mind.
“Breathe,” she says, “and let it be, Acknowledge these thoughts, then set them free.” Easier said than done, I often find, Yet her words were a balm for a troubled mind.
So here I sit, pen in hand, Writing my battles, taking a stand. Each word is a step, a path through the storm, In the act of writing, I slowly transform.
From victim to warrior, in my tale, Against these shadows, I will prevail. For in this struggle, this relentless fight, I find my strength, my will, my light.
Linger, reflect, and share your journey too, For in our shared stories, we find something true. In the echoes of words, a connection, a start, In the sharing of struggles, we find our heart.
|| C.J. Coop © 2024. All rights reserved. || UK Born Writer ||
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