As I look extensively at my device willing it to work optimally
It seems like the break down transpiring is mine rather than the device’s
My little bother seems bothered to witness my unfamiliar demeanor
My mother just looks from behind the pillars gently leaving a worried exculpatory sigh
For she knew and had been a witness to this alternate identity much before
Once I seemed to gain some semblance of my surrounding and reconnecting to it after what seemed like a lifetime
A sense of overwhelming exhaustion overcame me like I’d been gasping for air in fear of drowning while pleading desperately for help through my muffled cries
As I laid my head down to recover from the dizziness of feeling over stimulated
My mother approached me with an admonishing yet apprehensive gait
She looked at me like I was a moth destined to burn itself chasing a flame
Her fears of my self destructive tendencies being triggered were evident through her tear rimmed eyes
All that she could muster was, “how long will you self destruct as you suffer your precarious perilous panic attacks?”
All I could respond with was silence as I pursed my mouth shut as usual
I knew telling her the truth would be sacrilegious
How could I ever tell her that a state of panic had become my only coping mechanism to protect myself from the anticipation of a threat lurking around me unnoticed
How an acute awareness of the anticipation of being assaulted at any fatal moment that I had my guard down
Turned my thoughts into being constantly rushed through all possibilities of being ambushed just so that I could be ready with my response before it took me by surprise and unrelentingly commanded my submission
I will myself to be omnipresent in face of my worst fears being reiterated and relived just so that the next time they sneak their way in to damage me, it would be less debilitating than before
That was why I always stayed arrested in the pariah of panic attacks and mind altering alarming anxiety
Just so that I could be prepared not to be mutilated and annihilated the next time any intruder or perpetrator fixed their chilling target on me
Some say this is PTSD, but all I see it as are lasting souvenirs embedded within my psyche by the person who poached my very being
As he knew I was an indestructible survivor unless he turned my subconscious mind into my own greatest enemy
An enemy to inflict the harshest blow to my spirit by suspending me into the state of oblivion of remaining a victim irrevocably.
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