Black dog has me by the throat. I expend all my energy trying to pry those locked jaws off just a little for some breathing room. Sometimes I am strong enough to gasp a breath, maybe two, but not always. Never for long.
Social anxieties grow deep roots. I open Facebook, see the messages, the posts, the lives. I close it quickly, terrified I have to engage.
I am imprisoned in my house. I have a medical appointment on Monday and am already sick about it. Oh the irony.
Loss followd loss.
The disease has taken advantage of my weakness.
I am as brittle as an old woman’s laugh.
I am as fragile as a teen girl’s heart.
I am as delicate as an infant ‘s bones.
With the slightest hit, I will shatter like vintage crystal against marble floor.
As the black dog‘s jaws squeeze my vision is greyed and blurry.
I need a light, a beacon, before I succumb to the ease of black velvet nothingness.