I’m wrapped in a blanket, even though anyone else would say it’s plenty warm in the room. I want nothing more than to disappear, to become one with the blankets I’m wrapped up in.
Incapable of saying much. My brain is far too busy and conflicted for that. I am petrified, although right now, my nightmarish thoughts are only possibilities. But those possibilities are real…and to say them out loud would only make them more so. Thus, I dare not utter them. By staying silent, they stay in my head. Where they belong, for they must not ever become reality.
Ha! Not an option. Not only is it impossible, but even if I could, I have no business doing so. It might be 3 or 4am but as long as I’m this scared, there’s work to do. Why waste time sleeping when I’m paralyzed by fear of eventual potential starvation or homelessness??
When will this end? Is there an end? Will this last forever? Where will we be in 6 months? I shudder to think. The stories are bleak and depressing. I don’t want to be a statistic. I don’t want to be a failure.
We can’t fail.
Ignore the gaping chasm. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know how to fly the plane; the earth is yawning and its canyon is growing, both in width and length, and we’re about to be swallowed.
It’s do or die.
Fumble at the controls. Something’s got to work! Get this thing off the ground.
Finally! We have lift-off. But oh my, the turbulence. Gain altitude, pronto. Up, up, up! We’re not out of the woods yet. We could still crash. The more distance we can put between ourselves and the ground, the better.
Whew! Airborne, and the earth’s surface is getting smaller, by our perception. Safer and safer, with every yard/meter. We can do this!
We’re doing it! I don’t know how we’re still in the air, but we’re doing it!
I’m not Christian, but it’s like we have angels or something lifting us up, carrying us. Because I don’t know how else this is possible. I sure as shit don’t know how to fly this thing.
But I am.
I start to warm up. The adrenalin subsides. And maybe, just maybe, now I might sleep.