would they understand?

a monologue from the margins of sanity.

i used to live in so much chaos.

chaos was my normal. chaos was everywhere around me. it lived within me. through me. and yes, in me.

i don’t mean the kind of chaos that’s pretty. no. it’s not the kind that lives in your head and you battle with quietly. maybe it was that too, but it was definitely more than that.

this was actual chaos.

and there’s something rather unfortunate about staying too long in a dysfunctional space: the abnormal becomes annoyingly normal. you don’t feel it as much as you first did. you magically find a way to live with it. to echo laughs and smile through it. to, in fact - try, try to run and flee from it.

but you could only try. it always catches up.

chaos didn’t just become my normal - every other sane thing became abnormal. weird. surreal. unreal. comedic. fake. a lie. an actual lie.

you couldn’t possibly tell me that speaking calmly was a valid form of communication. it just didn’t make sense.

you were interested in hearing the other person out? no, absolutely not. that’s not how this works. here’s what makes sense: you scream at the top of your lungs. shout, and scream again. make a scene. cry. bring the chaos out.

yes, that’s all that ever made sense.

and i knew i had a problem. i knew who caused the problem, too. but it felt like a part of me - something stitched to the edges of my skin. and now… me.

i remember always jokingly tossing the phrase, “i need to see a therapist” around. i knew it. yes, i knew i had to intentionally work to bring myself out of the chaos. but the thought of that still made me chuckle, low-key.

but one day, the chuckling, laughing, smiling, running or fleeing - it all just got pent up in me. it didn’t turn into maniacal laughter. it turned into unexplained tears. deep, hot tears.

you know, the kind that tightens your throat, leaves you breathless and shaky. and when someone finally asks, “what’s wrong?” - you wouldn’t know what to say. you wouldn’t know where to begin.

how do you tell an adult who is clearly trying to make something out of his life in the city that never sleeps - how do you begin to explain that you’re going crazy?

that you laugh when you shouldn’t. cry when you shouldn’t. that you don’t even know exactly what’s wrong, but you know you can’t stay in this anymore?

how?

tell me, how?

would they get it? would they listen? not “listen” in the way that leads to a story about how everyone goes through this phase. no

would they actually listen? would they offer you a hand and pull you out of the mess? would they?

no, i need you to actually tell me.

would they understand that for them, you really tried to hold it in…. but you just couldn’t anymore?

that you now long - no, plead, plead for something normal this time?

something sane. something free.

would they understand?

tell me. would they?