Dark Embrace

I can feel them, the icy cold hands, my inner demons. They’ve taken a hold and are pulling me down. I don’t think I can fight them this time. I’m not strong enough. Not only am I not strong enough but the old doubts have risen with them as well. What’s the point? What’s it for? Why fight?

The voices of old rise in my mind, claw their way forward. You’re not good enough. You never will be. You’re not worth it. You never were. No amount of you will be ever enough.

Once, just ONCE, I want someone to fight this for me. Just once, I’d like to be lifted from the cloying darkness by someone else’s arms. No amount of weeping or wishing will make this a reality. I’m alone. There are no arms to fall into. No hands to wipe away the tears. No gentle words of comfort. It’s just me and my fears and doubts.

Hello old friends… enemies. Either way, I can always count on you. Your frigid grip is always ready for me. I know the outcome. I know the endgame. And yet. And yet. Here I am again.

I recount every action. Every word he spoke to me. Every dirty look. They were deserved, weren’t they? He was right. Damn it. He was right all along. Why did I think I could live in this fantasy? That I could be worth it? That someone would give up everything just for me? He was right. They wouldn’t. Why would they? There is nothing about me that sets me apart to make me that worthy. Why walk away from everything to gain nothing? He was right. No one would.

These tears, they flow down my cheek in a steady, never ending stream. Why? What’s the point? I’m the only one who will see them. I’m the only one who would wipe them away. They serve no purpose, and yet there they lay, silver crystals upon my skin, slowly coursing down, testament to my pain, my inner turmoil.

His voice rings in my ears. Unworthy. Inadequate. Never good enough. Lacking. Unattractive. Bitch. Mistake. Failure. Untalented. Without purpose…. Worthless.

He must have had some basis for his thoughts. I can see the reasoning behind each one. Perhaps a little twisted, yes, but with some foundation, too. How could I have ever thought he was wrong? Now that I sit back and think, really think, about it, stripping away wishes and fantasies, here’s the harsh reality before my eyes: He. Was. Right.

And so. I remain here with my truth sitting before me. Reflecting the real me. A stark reminder that dreams aren’t real and reality will come to the surface again.

The dark tentacles that encircled my ankles — I reach down, and instead of pushing them away, I cling to them. Wrap them about me. Welcome back, it’s been a long time, but it’s still achingly familiar. Pull me into your cold embrace and numb me once again.


tara caribou | ©2020

22 Comments on “Dark Embrace

  1. I know this and have spent years here. You capture the darkness so well. i felt a chill in the air. Awesome!

    Like

  2. Superbly evoked piece that will surely resonate with many.
    Very skilfully put together.
    Poignantly evoked in a strong voice of the character who is undefeated and at peace amid this vale of tears and trials

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This sort of thing has happened to me a lot. Recently too – so I know how you feel. Personally I think you are both lovely and talented. I don’t know how people can say such unkind words to you, I don’t even treat my X’s like that. Wish I could come and give you a hug. Take care

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  4. This hits home to how I have been feeling lately… something in the air?… been thinking a lot about lately of quitting… crawling under a rock and pretending I never had a dream… purpose… or want…

    The grind of writing is always hard… we are always exposed… out in the open… and trying to get better… so even little “failures” seem so much bigger than they are… those “failures” however are not failures at all… stepping stone to something greater… remembering why we do this in the first place is key… we like to tell stories… we enjoy telling ourselves stories… we want to express… release a thought or feeling… we all have our reasons… everything else is chance… everything else is a by product to what we really enjoy and why we do this at all…

    Success is measured by others… based on things that don’t matter… success is measured by things you can’t control… so don’t… our words are all we need… are all we ever needed… that’s how all this began… that is how it will end…

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    • You really summed it up there, Layne. Like you’ve said before, it’s a cycle. Quit. Go on. Hide. Reveal. Fail. Succeed. I definitely feel those cycles myself. But the drive to continue CREATING has always been a part of me and I cannot deny that. I hope you won’t deny that within yourself either.

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  5. You have expressed this feeling – these moments – expertly, Tara, and with true depth and emotion. Sometimes I think that we have a built-in ‘self-destruct’ button that we hit when things are going well for us. Why? I couldn’t begin to say. Perhaps it is fear (of rejection, or discovering that our dreams are ultimately unfulfilling) or perhaps something engendered when we are very small.
    On the positive I do also believe that it is this that spurs our creativity. I think that, if someone said that they could permanently remove my demons, I would still turn their offer down though.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You’re absolutely right Chris. I think many artists reach beyond the darkness to create masterpieces from it. I think it’s part of being human. I am at a place in my life where I just don’t want to stay there. The ups and downs are good. Healthy. Necessary.

      Liked by 1 person

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