In It.

Realizing, after the moment has passed, she went through that bit of darkness once again. In the darkness things feel hopeless and, while her body moves in slow motion, her mind races.

Catastrophizing. Assuming the worst. Body tensing but completely empty at the same time. Attempting to fill the void with any vice at her fingertips. Stomach in knots. Bracing for invisible imaginary impact - physically, mentally, emotionally.

Where does all of this come from? How can she ever end the recurrence? Especially when she can’t recognize the darkness until the moment has passed. Until the fog lifts. Until the elephant gets up off her chest and moves on to his next victim.

Only then can she breathe again, and what a sweet breath of fresh crisp clean air that is. The literal sigh of relief. Her lungs can fill to capacity once more. Her body is alive. Her smile reemerges and lights up even the night sky.

The contrast, so stark, is only recognizable when the dust of this vicious storm has settled. The release, the new life on the other side - she runs to. Neglecting the dedication to unravel the confusion and depravity.

Maybe this contributes to the cycle. Absent of recognizable pattern but still evident. 

Taking the good, conveniently erasing the bad from memory. She moves on…until the darkness returns.