Tornado

There is a raging storm that whirrs and thrashes beneath my skin, unseen.

The wind whips back and forth.

I’m flung from side to side.

My arms are flailing as I try to catch onto something solid.

To hold onto someone solid.

Hold on.

Sometimes I feel so empty that nothing can fill me up.

Nostalgic for past times that never happened.

Homesick for somewhere that never existed.

And sometimes I feel so full that I could burst.

And I do - like water spilling over the edge of the glass.

I pop like an overfilled balloon.

My mind runs rings around me.

Like a gust of wind, ten thousand miles an hour.

And as the wind blows it sings songs of delusions and fantasies.

Nightmares and dreams.

The dark and the light.

Mercurial, like the weather - the only constant is change.

But

Despite the storm inside that throws me off my feet.

The storm that makes me fight, each and every day.

A fight that no one else can see.

I know that I am strong.

Stronger than I might appear.

And when the wind howls, I will not let go.

I am not the only one with a tornado that rages underneath their skin.

Maybe you also fight your own storm.

A storm that sometimes eases off, calmer, and allows you to breathe.

Or sometimes gains such strength that it rattles you to your very core.

Like it could rip trees from their roots.

Some days are easier than others.

But you are strong.

Stronger than you might appear.

Don’t let go.