All of a sudden, I am there again. With out any warning. Stranded, on a little island, inside myself. I can see and hear people, but I can’t make out what they are saying. Or who they are even.  I’m just stuck, on my island feeling numb.

It can happen frequently, hourly even, yet sometimes weeks will go by when I don’t visit that place. Then, again, out of no where, I’m back. Surrounded by a Black Sea of nothingness.  Sometimes I can save myself, swim away. Dry off and go about my day as if I were never there. Other times I stay wet from the water, i feel sodden and heavy, irritated by the salt.

I’d like to say it gets easier being there but I think I have just become accustomed to it. Accepting of it, almost.

I don’t want to accept it, but it’s less draining that way. Or maybe that’s what I hope. I’m not sure any more.

I visited my island today. Not out of choice you see, I just seemed to drift there, taken by the current. I stayed a short while.

I would like to stay away, from that island, if i could. But it all depends on the tide.