Mold

by me

Fear is the mold of the mind. It lives under the surface, dormant, waiting. Then one day there is a leak. It awakes with a flourish, expanding and spreading quickly. It eats up all that is around it, distorting and devastating. As it spreads it blackens what was once white and pristine. Darkness expanding, engulfing. It suffocates, greedily taking up all the space it can. It grows and covers rational thought and logic. It has the power to kill.

I am surrounded by the mold fear. It’s growing in our downstairs bathroom, around the window in my daughter’s room, on the window in our bedroom, and in my blood in frighteningly high amounts. If I could be objective, I would say it’s beautiful. Flowery circles expanding in patterns, hypnotic to look at. It’s devious in its decoration. Knowing that I’m breathing it in, that my child is breathing it in, makes it almost impossible to breath. I am strangled by the knowledge that this harming me, harming us. I am strangled by my fear. It is crushing me. Every limb is tense. The moment I wake the hot adrenaline spreads across my body, my heart beating hard. The white anxiety spreading down my arms and legs. The ball of fire crushing my chest. I can’t even take a deep breath to relax – the air itself is toxic to me. The fear, the mold, surrounds me, fills ever bit of air around me. I feel so trapped in this house, in this bed, in this body, in this fear.

Advertisements