The numbness swells within me, a hollow ache I can't escape. Every step to the car feels like I'm trudging through quicksand, each movement heavy and labored. The world around me blurs as I start to drive, the familiar intro of Linkin Park’s "Numb" fills the car. It's like they wrote it for me. The lyrics echo my pain, a voice that understands the emptiness I can't articulate. Speeding down the dual carriageway, I crank the volume up, drowning out my thoughts. The faster I go, the more it feels like I’m soaring, leaving the weight of my existence behind.
As the road narrows into a village carriageway, I tell myself to be careful. I know these roads too well; the sharp bends and hidden dangers. But there's a part of me that yearns for the oblivion those bends might bring. I want to heal, I want to feel what I thought was never real. I want to let go of the pain I've felt so long... The lyrics pour out...
Suddenly, the car slips. My heart races as I feel it skidding toward the edge. In that moment, I'm no longer in control. I’m a passenger in my own life, watching helplessly as the world spins. The fear of death grips me, but there's also a strange comfort. Maybe this is how it ends. A quick exit, a final release. The idea of dying in a car accident, of slipping away without a fight, seems almost peaceful.
For someone drowning in depression, death isn’t just an end. It's a seductive promise of silence, a break from the ceaseless torment. The idea of no longer having to bear the weight of sadness is alluring. The thought of no more endless nights, no more silent screams into the void. Just peace, at last.
But then, as if guided by an unseen hand, the car straightens. I'm back on the road, alive and still in pain. The chance of escape has slipped through my fingers. The brief moment of near-death clarity is gone, replaced by the relentless ache of living. I keep driving, haunted by the question: will it happen again? The fleeting sense of freedom was intoxicating. I want to die, to feel peace, to release the suffering that clings to my soul. But here I am, still alive, still breathing, still hurting.
Why am I not dead yet? Why does God keep me tethered to this life with such a persistent guardian angel? It's a cruel joke, a cosmic tease. The promise of peace dangled in front of me only to be snatched away. The pain continues, unending, and I can only wonder how much longer I have to endure.