“It’s hard to maintain
A simple thought through the day
Every voice its own planet and my mind tends to gravitate
I am pushed, I am pulled into every which way

– Kyle Morton, Gestalt of Original Pain

My mind is a constant flurry of thoughts and voices.  I’ve grown accustomed to tuning them out, even going so far as to develop techniques to ignore them.  I distract myself with music, books and television, using stories and art to preoccupy my mind whilst pushing the thoughts to the back where they mumble quietly amongst themselves.  But every so often they will rise up all at once, and when that happens the flurry becomes a blizzard of screams all clamouring to be heard, drowning out everything else.  The whiteout consumes me, and my voice is lost among the masses.

Whenever the thoughts get to be too much, and I know I can hold them back no longer, the only thing for me to do is let them consume me.  I have to let them run free, unchecked and unhindered.  Each dark desire, each twisted thought, each insubordinate idea and malicious memory must be given its time in the spotlight.  They must all be heard, but they must not be listened to.  They must pass over me and pass through me, but they must not be allowed to linger.  You cannot contain a blizzard, but you can wait it out.

And when the storm passes and the thoughts have run dry, I will still be there.  When my mind has emptied and the thoughts have quieted, I will emerge from the white wasteland about me, shake the snow off my shoulders, and carry on.

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2 thoughts on “The Whiteout

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