The House Of Mirrors

Its fast approaching midnight my body is weary my eyes are drowsy. I am wearing my silky crimson jimjams which i typically wear when the British climate becomes more clement and not so stiflingly humid. My anxiety has dissipated as i sense the serene effects of the cannabis i inhaled minutes ago. With my body relaxed i can safety fall asleep into a deep subconscious sleep. Hopefully during my protracted sleep no more nightmares that I have been experiencing for the past 2 weeks. Night after night after a few hours of sleep I awoken with sweaty anxiety riddled body suffering from a horrendous nightmare. The consequences of a bad dream is it exacerbates my anxiety precludes from sleeping and leaves me a quivering nervous wreck unable to sleep or safely vacate my room.

I lay my stoned head that’s swimming with a thousand million thoughts on my soft black pillow. Gazing at my ceiling as my neurotic mind pulsates with thoughts of anxiety of death of love. I close my heavy eyes and for a few minutes hallucinate a psychedelic array of colours as i drift into a sanguine mediative state. For once in my wretched life I experience the nirvana of serenity with the aid of a psychoactive elicit narcotic. My languid body gravitates from a conscious state into a subconscious dream world.

Lost in a vivid dream that seems so real i open my eyes. There is black everywhere no light no colour in this marooned land. I walk with trepidation i walk lethargically barely able to lift my legs that feel like blocks of concrete. Then suddenly this nebulous locale dramatically changes suddenly i am engulfed in a vast infinite sea of mirrors. Some of these mirrors are cracked some are perfect immaculate designed mirrors that gleam. As far as my eyes can fathom there’s a vast sprawl of mirrors a house of mirrors. My anxiety intensifies then there’s a beam of blinding light shone onto my scrawny body. It appeared abruptly like a fluorescent stage light my body is now encumbered with panic with disquietude. I don’t know where i am am I awake am I being tortured my a assailant am I a prisoner in a unknown location. Then I look at the mirrors which change every few seconds writing appears on the mirror. Words such as freak ugly loser deformed worthless unlovable are imprinted on the vast array of mirrors in this house of horror in the unescapable house of mirrors.

Then by ghastly deformed face is magnified on the mirrors again the mirror reflection keeps on changing rapidly. First it my blood shot green eyes that are displayed on a million cracked incandescent mirrors that besiege my body. The mirrors are coming closer to me the claustrophobia has set in as the walls of this dreaded house of mirrors. Then the image changes once again this time its my horrid gnarled smile with my crocked teeth magnified on a infinite mirrors that surrounds me. Tears flow down my face i am no longer standing I collapse to the floor holding my head in my hands shacking back and forth wanting the psychological torture to end. I cant look away from the car crash of my ravaged face my tombstone teeth that appear more unsightly as they are exhibited on the gleaming screens.

I cry then I scream with a bellow of anguish crying out to be emancipated form this purgatory. Every few seconds the grotesque image alters occasionally focusing on my flat featureless body. Then to my horror i am naked my clothing has been removed by some malevolent malicious demon that keeping me prisoner in this location. I cant escape this nightmare i close my eyes I’m still here being forced to catch a sight of my pale emaciated body unobscured by clothing. I see all the cracks all the scars that are rendered on my arms. I glimpse my flat petite breasts that are mere molehills looking like a pair of painkiller pills on a ironing board. The horror the horror of it all no escape no assuagement from this hell. I’m on the floor crying profusely shacking shivering breathing hysterically make it stop end the pain end the nightmare i forlornly scream into the abyss.

The scene of this room changes once again now the hall of infinite mirrors that engulf me is altered with a thousands cold faces swarm my body. They are laughing at my naked body pointing at laughing derisively some faces are looking on with castigating expressions. Other faces are repulsed by my body with horror stricken faces. The entire cluster of individuals starts to chant freak freak freak freak. The chant grows louder and louder as the chant becomes more viscous. The cruelty the inhumanity to me is apparent on their faces I’m not a human to them I’m a subhuman freak. They circulate my shivering body getting closer they scream out freak freak some as laughing others are pointing at chastising the horror show of my naked porcelain body.

The environment once more transmogrifies I’m in a different setting a familiar location its my bedroom. No mirrors here just my bed my tv my pink teddy bear for comfort. I am fully conscious after witnessing a harrowing nightmares in which my repressed fears were brought to the surface in a evocative nightmare. I’m terrified to fall back to sleep not wanting to experience another ordeal. This nightmare effected me profoundly leaving me paralysed with anxiety. My body is shacking i hold by pink teddy bear that’s a vestige of my childhood. I turn on the big light I want some comfort something to mitigate the fear that’s pulsating in my blood stream. The recurring nightmare of the house of mirrors occurs in my dreamworld at least once a month. This recurring dream usually occurs after i have a panic attack or another injurious anxiety attack in pubic. For the nest few days i be unable to sleep its another bout of insomnia which is awaiting me. Its only 3:00 am its the apex of the night the streets are hauntingly silent i turn on my speakers needing to hear a mollifying sound that will calm me down. For hours i play music from my favourite video from YouTube the last of us as i rock back and forth on the edge of my bed. At least I’m free from the nightmare of the house of mirrors but i have to endure to abide the nightmare of being me of being afflicted with a social anxiety disorder and body dysmorphia

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s