The Gorgeous Spiral of My Mind’s Dissonance

Wondering where this leads is just as useless as it was the first three hundred times. The nothingness that fills my mind stems from the very nothingness that surrounds me. I stare at the sloped walls of the cavern, where alternating white and black stripes converge in a sickening design. It’s as though my feet rest upon an enlarged hypnosis spiral. Shouldn’t there be a light at the end of the tunnel? There definitely should be, but…I don’t see one. As far as I can see this cavern continues on into a darkness that my eyes have yet to uncover.

I feel like I should be afraid of being trapped in this tunnel. There's no way out and absolutely no means of survival, but no, I feel uneasily calm. So, I walk on following the striped design as the nothingness encompasses my being.

Quiet fills my mind. I’ve never experienced such silence. During my life, I have been swamped in uncontrollable noise. This silence, it is peaceful, but it’s just not right. Maybe that's why I’m not scared, just aware. It’s so quiet. Why is it so quiet? There should definitely be noise. Where is it?

This cavern. It feels nothing like my normal state of mind. If I could describe my version of “normal,” it would be quite the opposite of this space. It would be an unevenly shaped tavern with walls covered in everything under the sun: stripes, dots, zigzags, words, and pictures. Air horns blowing. Children screaming. Dogs barking. Rowdy celebrations, honking cars, busy roads, shouts of joy and laughter. The gorgeous spiral of my mind’s dissonance. But here…it's like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

This place is just calm. But why? This can’t be right! There is an unnatural stillness trapped within these borders.

I don’t like it. I don’t like it. I don’t like it. I want to leave. I NEED to leave.

I start to race down the corridor in which I am trapped begging for freedom. Begging for noise. Begging for the uncontrollable forces that fill my mind each day. Without them, what am I?

I have to stay busy. I have to stay busy. I have to stay busy. If I’m not busy, what am I even here for?

Instead of receiving relief that accompanies noise, the silence of this trap echoes around all sides of me. I skid to a stop. Where is everyone? Why am I alone? I’m never alone. This can’t be right. I need people to be here so that I can lead them. Without being in control, how will I know that everything will work out? I WON’T.

I need to be in control. I need to be in control. I need to be in control.

Why can’t I see the end of this tunnel? There should be a light. Why isn’t there a light? It’s eerily calm, so I simply trudge on. The silence that surrounds me and the simple, monotone walls break down a blockade at the forefront of my mind, allowing thoughts to formulate ever so easily. Why do I need to be in control anyway? Why do I need to stay busy? Why do I need to get out? Why don’t I like this tunnel?

This tunnel has been the oasis that I have sought my entire life. A break from the waves that continue to crest upon my inner eye. Therefore, I should be enjoying the peace. But, I just can’t. How can I possibly be overthinking peace from overthinking itself? The wall’s configuration moves as I tread down this neverending tunnel.

Suddenly, my world leaks into the thoughts I’m trying to quiet. The people I spoke to earlier, did I make a good impression? What if they hated me? What if I came across as stupid or rude? What if I said the wrong thing? I should have done literally every part of that interaction differently. Why can’t I be perfect? I just need everyone to like me. But I can’t be sure that they do. I need to be sure.

I need to know. I need to know. I need to know. If they don’t like me I need to fix it.

But just like that my thoughts disappear. As I stare into the perpetual abyss, all my thoughts go blank. Maybe this is good for me. This odd silence, perhaps it is what I need. But I also need to be thinking. If I stop thinking, what if it all goes wrong? What if it hurts the people I love? If I can’t control what happens, everything could disappear and I would be left alone forever.

Yes, I think all this thinking is good for me, not bad. It keeps me alive and well. It allows me to be surrounded by loved ones. It allows me to live in my neighborhood happily. But, I’m not experiencing these things right now in this chasm. I’m scared. I might be dead. I’m most definitely alone. It’s just me in this tunnel, nothing else. What is wrong with me? I need to get out.

I need to think. I need to think more. I need to spend some time thinking.

This cannot be good for me, but I can’t escape the endless cycle of doubt and assurance. The walls seem to shift under my feet, above my head, to my right, and to my left. The tunnel spins just as my mind does. I urgently imagine blankness attempting to push the spirals out. As my mind returns to a state of thoughtlessness, the movement ceases. Without the thoughts, my surroundings are calm. With them, my surroundings are equivalent to insanity. Maybe I just need to stop thinking.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. But oh no, now I’m just thinking about how to stop my thinking.

STOP. STOP. STOP

My mind's whirling thoughts cease as the walls slow to stillness. All is correct in this tunnel as long as I wait mindlessly within. I want to leave very badly, but I can’t get out, so instead I just walk on, inwardly begging for reprieve that has yet to come.