Falling and Crashing and Breaking

Here, I am on the verge of something, standing over a cliff edge not sure whether I should be jumping, running backwards, or if I will soon be pushed to my ultimate fall. I am used to falling, I feel like I have been in a perpetual state of falling and crashing and breaking, but something feels different here. A blood-curdling sort of different.

Yet I am frozen. Frozen to the spot. Staring at this unknown space stretching out before me. Everything that flickers in and out of my vision is unwanted, painful, scary. And nothing in sight will break my fall, only pull me further, harder. But if I turn around there is no light to guide my way back. Only shadows which are becoming darker and darker with time.

Everything is too loud in the silence. I cannot hear myself think over silent whispers of yesterday. And I need to think. I need to think to remember how to move forward without falling and crashing and breaking. Surely there was a time when I knew how to do this, safely. Surely I would not be living now if I did not know. But not today.

Today I cannot remember what living is. How to live? How to grasp anything for more than a second before it breaks and in turn breaks me? How to feel, for feeling requires life and life requires me to live and I do not know if I am dying here? Breathing, yes, I am breathing, but I do not know how. I do not know how my body remembers to catch a breath. So maybe each breath is my last, until I again inhale the darkness around me. And somehow I am still here.

Here, where nothing looks like life. There are no pathways to living in this place. Only one route. Down. My body will not withstand another fall. Falling and crashing and breaking. And if there is water below I will drown, for I cannot swim. Regardless, the fall is too great and the water is too deep to keep me afloat now.

 

image © Mariann Martland

So I stand. Motionless. Knowing every bit of this vast expanse of nothing that surrounds is crushing me. Squeezing out my last breaths. Sucking me into the vacuum of a deathless dark existence. To escape, the only way is to jump (or be pushed), or be taken back by the deathly shadows I left behind me.

There is no easy choice here. There are no guides lighting my way home. And at this point I cannot remember what home is. So I stand, frozen, waiting for my answer, or for this forgotten life to take me into the inevitable, into the space before me, where I will have to remember again how to keep falling and crashing and breaking.

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2 thoughts on “Falling and Crashing and Breaking

  1. Motionless is OK. Be patient with yourself and breath. One breath after another, in goes love and light, out goes all the rest, until the day comes, (and I promise you it will) when you have enough light to share. Peace and love to you Mariann ❤️

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