It's a slow process, being enveloped by the dark.
It creeps up on you.
You don't realize it's there until suddenly the panic overwhelms your senses.
You can't see your hand in front of your face.
You can't find your feet.
Or your breath.
You can't remember what made you smile or laugh.
It's all you can do to resist the pull.

You fight, you trash wildly.
But your punches have no place to land and your screams are
muted, absorbed, by the black.
So stuck in the struggle to not delve deeper,
you forget to try to pull yourself out.

Until, finally, you're numb. Unfeeling.
Because not feeling, not thinking, is the only way to survive.
In this place, you're alone with your thoughts, haunted by your demons.
There's no light to heal the wounds they inflict.
There is only the black mist surrounding you,
and the dull pound of your heartbeat in your ears.
The sound reminding you of what you're desperately clinging to;
your life.