I am afraid.
This hour, it is only the fear and chaos that consume me.
but what of the others?
The pain. The anger. The hate. The sorrow.
They each wash over me, wrenching me violently, flinging me through this storm.
And somewhere among the confusion, I have lost sight of myself.
Now I am the storm, and I am consumed by it.
I have no power over it any longer, it seems.
I am beyond my barriers, my strictness and discipline which I was once so proud of.
They are like walls of sand before the tide of my madness.
And as the storm pummels me into desperation, as I destroy myself, I weather it, hoping vainly to survive. And the hours pass, and the walls wash away ever more. I thought that they were destroyed before, but they fall father yet.
And I am so afraid that I am finally losing it.
Hate, like nothing I've never imagined.
Some days, hope seems a tangible thing. And then, in the next, it slips through my fingers like water.
So much of my control is decaying.
I often ponder my own worth. It seems lacking, many times again.
I can not ask for help. To do so would admit that I need saving.
To need saving, I must be close to losing it. If I am losing it, I must be going mad.
I cannot lose my sanity. My control. It is all I've ever asked of myself.
And yet this storm is drowning me.
Slowly, I drown in my own emotion.
And still, I deny it.
I cannot ask. I cannot.
I must weather this myself.
I must.


There is no other way.