The Spotlight
5/02/2020
There is a spotlight on me, but it isn’t even real. I see it as a part of my own life and my own experience, but it is nothing more than a film.
When my mouth opens, nothing comes out. Sounds are trapped in my throat, blocked from freedom by a net of my own devising. I don’t know how it works, but I know that I cannot get free. When I struggle to get through, the spotlight shines brighter than before. It blinds me until I can no longer remember how it feels to think clearly. Each thought is filtered through what I can only describe as fear. I am becoming numb, and now I can’t remember which way is the right one. What if I mess up? What do I say?
Words come so naturally to everyone else. Everyone is worried that this will be a problem for me, this spotlight that only falls on me. I am the only one who freezes when the spotlight comes down. I am the only one who can see it, can feel my body freezing into a statue of stone. Every molecule within my body is screaming. It wants to run, wants to avoid the spotlight that is now shining down on me. The small, rational thing that is my brain is embarrassed for me. Why do you do this, it asks. I don’t know the answer to that.
The spotlight will not dim. It was, for a while, but not anymore. I don’t know how to explain it. For a while, I could see through the spotlight, but now, it only grows brighter. The spotlight will not dim, and I am afraid.
There is a spotlight on me, but it isn’t even real. I see it as a part of my own life and my own experience, but it is nothing more than a film.
When my mouth opens, nothing comes out. Sounds are trapped in my throat, blocked from freedom by a net of my own devising. I don’t know how it works, but I know that I cannot get free. When I struggle to get through, the spotlight shines brighter than before. It blinds me until I can no longer remember how it feels to think clearly. Each thought is filtered through what I can only describe as fear. I am becoming numb, and now I can’t remember which way is the right one. What if I mess up? What do I say?
Words come so naturally to everyone else. Everyone is worried that this will be a problem for me, this spotlight that only falls on me. I am the only one who freezes when the spotlight comes down. I am the only one who can see it, can feel my body freezing into a statue of stone. Every molecule within my body is screaming. It wants to run, wants to avoid the spotlight that is now shining down on me. The small, rational thing that is my brain is embarrassed for me. Why do you do this, it asks. I don’t know the answer to that.
The spotlight will not dim. It was, for a while, but not anymore. I don’t know how to explain it. For a while, I could see through the spotlight, but now, it only grows brighter. The spotlight will not dim, and I am afraid.
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