I used to be a fortress

My armour is my life. Without it I’d have imploded, exploded, become completely unhinged and given up many years ago. 

But the chinks in my armour have become exposed.

It’s penetrated and I’m wounded.

Shaken to my absolute core.

I don’t know how to fix it.

I no longer have the tools.

I don’t know what to do.

People are always asking me about my future and once upon a time I had it loosely mapped out.

But now, I’m lost in the sea of indecision and in the middle of cyclone torment and I don’t know what to do about ‘tomorrow’.

I’m scared of what it brings.

I fear it.

I don’t want it.

I have no need of it.

It only ever has bad things to say, and I can’t handle anymore bad things.

No more life changing experiences.

I am ill-prepared.

Shaking.

Fear.

The lung man is the ultimate bearer of bad news.

Worse then when the pain people told me all my pain was in my head.

I cannot deal with the things he has to say.

I don’t have that impenetrable strength anymore.

Not while I’m wounded, and scared. 

I no longer want that future.

I don’t think it’s worth it.

Not when I have to suffer this never ending pain.

I’m shutting down.

Shutting people out.

I’m so scared.

I cannot explain how scared.

But I am terrified. 

It’s eating me, laughing at me, hanging off me and consuming me.

I don’t know which way to look.

Who to tell.

Who to trust.

Which walls to rebuild.

Which to tear down.

Where to confide.

To give up, or to battle on.

But, to battle on for what?