Cocoon

Jekyll Island Georgia

It feels like the walls are closing in, that’s the best way I can describe it. I feel like balling up into a cocoon wanting, desiring to isolate myself. My mind craves the attention, but my heart is so fearful. Such a paradox of emotions I wish would just shut off. To escape into insanity would be such a relief. But the mind remains laser focused on the moment, the guilt I carry of cancelled plans. Just so I can bury my head and hide.

I wish I could make those around me understand the weight I carry. But it is only the physical manifestations they grasp. The conflictions of the mind are beyond comprehension. How can someone so outgoing, so stable and calm in appearance be so broken. To shut off my mind would be so easy. Yet here I am diving headlong into the belly of the beast.

All I need is a little time to let the mind, body, and spirit catch up with themselves. Because the synchronicity of calm can often get away from me. At the moment I feel the center returning, for the moment my thoughts are mine again. The beast which I run to and away from is fear. A place where expectation and performance dance and runaway at the same time.

I don’t know if any of this makes much sense. I simply translate the thoughts into the words you see on the page. All I know is the cocoon feels safe, my fears are subsiding, and my mind is returning. To drink the bitter wine of fear is something I wish on no one. But the story of it’s affect needs to be told. We all get backed into our corners every now and then. And right now I shrink into the depths of mine. 

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