I cannot see through the impenetrable darkness that surrounds me. Are my eyes open? Or are they closed? I do not know. I know nothing for certain except for the growing tentacles of the darkness. I’m spiralling down an endless abyss. I’m in the middle of a storm and there should have been a lighthouse guiding me home. I cannot see it from where I am but there has to be one.
What is the storm? The storm of reality ravaging my senses? Or the storm of illusion numbing them? Everything is dark. Shrouded like a dead person’s body. I cannot grope my way out because there are no walls. Only darkness. Endless darkness. A burning pain shoots through my ribcage and sets my lungs on fire. I can see the fire. I can feel it. Only, it is not the usual golden red. It is black. Everything is black. And it hurts. The fire hurts. It is gnawing at senses and threatening to choke my life. I want it to stop.
It does. It stops. But the fire is replaced by numbness. It creeps into my soul and throttles my senses. I can see the darkness. I can’t feel anything. Nothing. Not even pain. Everything seems to have been severed from my soul. And in the next moment the voices that have been echoing around the dark abyss fall silent. There is nothing. No sound. No pain. Only a soothing presence.
Is it the light from the lighthouse? I try to strain my eyes to see it. I can’t seem to find it yet. It’s not the light. It’s something worse; something sinister. It had been lurking in the corners of this darkness for a long time, unable to speak, unable to come to the fore. Now that there is only the abyss with endless void and darkness, it is out of its closet and in front of me. A dark wish to escape. An escape route that I had often considered but had managed to push aside. The storm has brought it back.
It is overwhelming and overpowering. The presence lulls me into its spell. I cannot fight it. I cannot resist it. And then the light bursts in. A blinding stab in the darkness. I am saved. Mostly. I can see the lighthouse. I can see the light shining. I can see the path. But the light is dim. It is still dark around me. The path is still unclear; a thin strip of silver light. I need the light to shine brighter. I need the path to be clearer. I need myself to be stronger. The raging voices have calmed down. The sinister presence has receded in the corners of the darkness.
I am still stuck in the storm. And the light is not getting any brighter.