when the storm’s about to come

it’s that fear that settles in your gut when the clouds begin to gather and your world is tinted with black. it’s the feeling of coldness, sterility. as though life has been sapped of colour, poison coursing through your veins. you can cry and you can scream, you can panic and curl into a ball, but that feeling does not subside. it clings on. telling you, convincing you of your worthlessness. I’m scared right now. scared and tired. scared because I know the strength it will take to fight when that feeling comes. tired because I’ve dedicated so much of myself only to be knocked back down again. I know I can’t give in, I won’t give in, but there’s that temptation, that horror of the thought that you will. because you can try, you can try harder, you can try harder than you ever have before, but somehow that’s not good enough. somehow you must transcend the bounds of all you thought possible and trust those around you. wearing a blindfold, you must find the door. you must carry on.