'Misery'

2am I arrived on the ward, 6am I finally fell asleep. What happened in between was simply tormenting.

I looked around the room, 8 bays, mine included, filled the room, all of which were occupied. Even in the dimly lit room my assessment of the ward led me to the conclusion that I was clearly the youngest man on this ward.

Cynical I know, but my first thought was 'I can't believe I'm here, sharing a ward with men who truly look like they're ready to bow out of the world.'

This reality did little to help my mood. Misery gripped me. I held a pillow over my face and for a few moments I contemplated smothering myself.

Beneath the pillow, thoughts raced through my mind. I was actually quite in fear of what was to come. I still couldn't remember anything and being alone with my thoughts only made the situation worse.

I lifted the pillow from my face. I couldn't move, paralysed by fear. My heart sank as I lay in the eerily silent ward. Such was the silence, that I felt I had been sealed in a crypt never to be unearthed, left with only the sound of my own breathing, buried alive among the dead.

Why do these dark thoughts possess my mind? These thoughts, dreams, visions and figures were so vivid, but I couldn't make sense of any of them.

I closed my eyes briefly trying to dislodge these dark thoughts of death and self destruction.

The silence of the ward was broken by the man in the bay directly opposite to me. He was obviously 'sleep talking'. "Bless you in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit", he babbled. 

No God here, I thought and with that a sudden cold chill raced over my body.

I closed my eyes instinctively, flinching at the sudden cold that had swept into the ward. I heard bay curtains fluttering and I opened my eyes trying to identify an open window. 

Nothing, all the windows were sealed, shut tightly, so where had the gust come from?

My gaze focused upward and there it was a large shadowy figure, its eyes were dead, its entire form was black. Was I dreaming again or was this real? I simply couldn't tell. 

The figure opened its mouth, insects oozed from it, scurrying out as if attracted by the scent of death. It was like watching a 3D horror movie. I lay there in disbelief, utterly mortified. I tried to scream, but my throat closed up. It was all too vivid, it was also too much to handle. Why? Why? Why? I kept thinking. I managed to speak. "What do you want with me?" I asked. Without moving his lips the figure said, "Everything". 

Suddenly I felt like my body was being invaded as if something was being drained out of me. Some sort of mist appeared just above my body. The mist dissipated, absorbed by the figure. It was almost like it had consumed my soul.

The insects were now crawling all over the figure, essentially clothing it like some sort of robe. It spoke. "You're mine now, He won't get you back." "Who won't get me back?" I whispered. "I don't understand, why are you doing this to me?" 

It suddenly occurred to me, I was trying to reason with a shadow. The figure once again spoke. "Your Father won't get you back". I didn't understand. Suddenly I was able to move. I sat bolt upright, a cold breeze once again filled the room. I gazed upward again, the shadow had left.

It was horrible, but part of me was quite disappointed it had left. Why? Well it had made connection with me; it took away the feeling of loneliness. Now, I was alone in the dark again, the sound of silence all around until, an overwhelming sense of emotion overcame me. I didn't cry, I didn't weep, I sobbed silently. My knees up to my face, arms wrapped tightly around my legs and face buried into my knees, I felt the warmth of my tears run down my face, then down my legs. 

I sobbed for an hour at least. All that had just transpired had exhausted me. I had nothing left. Friends, family and all my life's memories had gone I was so alone. 

I lifted my head. The clock read 5.50am, I lay down on top of the covers, curled up as if back in the womb. I cried myself to sleep. What do I do now? No-one to trust, nowhere to turn. I was boxed in, I couldn't run. I was isolated, scared, angry and suicidal. I could feel my stomach tighten as I lay, I shivered, but I didn't care about the cold. I had nothing, so it was nice to 'feel' something.

I can honestly say readers that I was ready to implode, to hit the self destruct button. I cannot contextualise just how 'maddening' this experience was. My inability to differentiate between what was real and what was in my mind was utterly perplexing.

The range of emotions I experienced was also unbearable. The ward offered little comfort. The only sense of hope I encountered at this point was the rising of the sun, which came into view outside my ward window. 

Comforted by the sun's arrival, I drifted off to sleep, undecided whether I was on the brink of despair or encouraged by the dawn of a new day. Only time would tell...