Excelsis

...Josh Steele

...

Age: 17 years

Birthday: 30th August

Place of birth: Unknown

Biological parents: Unknown

Hobbies: Sports: football, basketball and lacrosse, playing the guitar, swimming, fishing, running, hanging out with his friends, drawing

Status: Popular, single

Favorite colours: Blue, Grey, white, red, black

Ace: Track and Field

Pet name: killer Steele

Best Friends: The Six Stallions: Johnathan Grey, Conner Black, Coby West, Trent Locke, Damion Salvatore

Parents: Jordan Steele and Emily Steele

Siblings: Jada Steele, 4, Stephan Steele, 6, Ameera (Mira) Steele, 14

...****************...

They say if a wound is too deep it will leave a scar when it heals, but I believe the wound never really heals.

You can still touch the it and remember how you got it.

You can still touch it and it will hurts.

You can still peel the healed skin and open the raw wound again.

Even if it does heal physically it will leave a mental scar that is much more painful.

Mental wounds are very dangerous. They can bleed and when penetrated you'll bleed out to a point where the blood builds and becomes toxic within you.

It is now up to you to let that bad blood out, but if you're like me it will be difficult to do such. You watch as it festers and grow consuming you bit by bit until all that's left is an empty shell which once held life.

It becomes detrimental.

Those internal wounds can make you die on the inside before killing you on the outside.

It ails you...

It makes you nauseous, cry silently and scream mentally which becomes louder than thunder within you and you shout inaudibly at the top of your voice... At something yet nothing.

It sends electric waves throughout your body causing neuropathic pain. This pain doubles in magnitude compared to physical pain.

You will succumb to your mental scars.

It eats away at your sanity from within.

You grasp your tummy to soften the pain, your years burn like acid on your cheek, your screams choke you when the sound doesn't escape and your throat tightens causing your inability to produce sounds.

Your mouth is parched and sandy, painful to the touch. It's uncomfortable but you try hard to suppress the burning sensation engulfing you.

The only thing you're able to release is the hot sticky tears that won't cease to flow.

I could no longer cry, the tears wouldn't come. I was incapable of crying.

A sudden migraine hits you making you lose your balance and the external sounds pounds in your ears making it worse.

Your entire head is burning and a bitter saltiness lingers on your tongue as you feel defeated... Helpless... Hopeless.

Can you believe that can all happen at once?

Your stomach ties in knots, your heart racing uncontrollably, you're gasping for air and you're numb all over unable to move.

Yes, yes you can feel that all at once when the blood becomes too stagnant within you.

So which is better, mental wounds or physical wounds?

You don't want anyone to see you in such a state but someone always do.

You don't want anyone to comfort you and take pity on you so you push them away.

No matter how painful it is you think you can endure it as lie awake each nights watching as your demons consume you.

After two or three encounters it gets worse and uncomfortable. The worse it gets is the more drowned you feel and the more you begin to sadistically love it as you yearn for it.

It feels as though you were meant to be somehow, you and your pain share a strong bond with each other.

A chaotic love.

No matter the pain your now unable to escape it unless you puncture thag thin strong layer holding it all within.

Like a balloon holding air and no one wanting their cute shiny balloon to pop because they now have an attachment to it.

You now wonder how grim life will feel after you let go of that balloon as you watch it sail into the sky and disappear beyond the clouds leaving you rooted to the ground unsure of your next move.

Does that bring some insight as to why we don't let go of our balloons?

Picture this;

Your internal wounds is a balloon. Beautiful, shiny, colourful, etc. and someone comes along and just pop it. You want to cry (you might even), that person snatched your purpose away from you. Something you nurtured for years, built your life around even if it's consuming you and killing you slowly it still holds meaning in your pathetic life.

You may ask yourself, "Why torture myself with such immense pain?"

But when you do you should also ask yourself, "What would life be without feeling pain at all?"

No pain at all, huh... What a conundrum that is!

It's hard explaining to others why we can't pop the balloon, it's much harder sharing the air within the balloon with someone else.

I'm going to call 'pain' 'IT' more often as you may have noticed I've been doing for a while now.

It just feels weird saying pain all the time but with saying 'IT' you get to stress the meaning.

Like...

it

iiiiiiiiit

ittttttt

IT

You get it right, lol.

Anyways, back to the conundrum.

Those who never felt 'It' before will think it's easy to let go and you're just pathetic but it's harder than it seems.

Some who had let go of theirs can vouch for that, i congratulate those who got rid of theirs.

Those still carrying theirs can tell you how complicated it is to let it go even when their in immense pain.

'It' comes with its perks like that feeling of being high on cloud nine drowsy (No, you're not on drugs or alcohol but your feeling ecstatic).

Can you believe that after going through tremendous pain you feel high, lol, but it's true.

......................

...✨To those who managed to face their pain✨...

Hello to you.

Have you ever revisited your pain?

Have you ever felt a waft of sadness by just thinking of it?

Do you believe you've truly escaped/ let go of it?

Is the mental wounds healed?

Do you believe that mental wound is completely shut and you can revisit it without experiencing a gnawing feeling or a chill?

Do you wish you can have that pain back?

Is your life better or worse now?

I am truly apologetic if these questions brought any discomfort to you but it's questions you need to ask yourself.

...✨Thank you!✨...

......................

You see, when you let it out the wound will heal giving release to a burden you've carried around that weighed you down for a prolonged time.

There is still the risk of having new mental scars.

There is still the risk of that shut door reopening once again.

No matter how much you close it, it never fully closes.

For me, there is nothing such as 'fully shut'.

There just can't be. I don't know if you'd agree or disagree, that decision is yours and only yours to make.

A door is never fully shut even with all the bolts and locks you put on it.

You make it air tight so nothing can escape or enter but all it takes is one hit to make it falter or even time to make it wear away.

A lid is never fully closed because somehow and by some means something will eventually get in or out.

A small hole, however tiny/minute will remain. It will be invisible and just left there unnoticed.

Gradually that tiny hole will open again, we can't escape it. We delude ourselves into thinking we faced our demons and can move in from it.

We need to stop lieing to ourselves about fully shutting something permanently because we'll be disappointed when that wish we shut inside, finds it's way out back, or we rid ourselves of, slowly creeps into our lives once again, leaves us wondering how that happened.

It is and will be always there.

Stop living in deceit.

Cry if need be, speak it out if need be, take comfort if need be... Or don't but don't trick yourself into believing 'It' won't loom over you always.

Trauma is trauma not matter how you twist it.

Pain is pain no matter how much you escape it.

Happy times and Sad times are bound to happen no matter what.

You win some and you lose some so that the scale of life remains even.

This world is so many emotions swirling in one but you need to find comfort within it. Find a meaning to life and hold on to it.

When you fall get back up again. It's hard but you have to try, even if you need a few minutes to pick yourself up just keep in mind that you need to get up.

Fight for a meaning.

Fight for hope.

Fight for what little humanity you have left.

Going down fighting is better than going down easily. At least you will be able to say you put up a front... You held the Frontline... You did something.

‘My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?’

~Virginia Woolf~

Power word with a deep meaning.

...****************...

"Josh..."

"Josh..."

"Josh.."

"Can you hear me?"

"When did you start having these night terrors?"

The therapist placed her notepad down and lean forward slightly.

She looked professional even with that posture.

She was talking but I was unable to make out what she was saying.

Yet, she continued to speak.

Even though I didn't hear her voice i heard another.

Less softer than her's, less sweeter than her's and less comforting than her's.

"J O O O SH"

"JOSH!"

The slithering metallic voice pierced and echoed in my conscience.

This man just kept taunting me again and again.

Asking for his name repeatedly as i ran around in a building filled with doors.

Every room was white and empty. Not even windows were inside, just an empty white box with one entrance and one exit.

A hideous man with only red eyes on his head kept chasing me with a bow and an endless supply of arrows.

Whenever he caught me he'd release them one after another.

The arrows pierced my skin and sent pain throughout my entire body.

My blood would stain the white room and I'd fight tooth and nail with him.

I was defenseless so i used the arrows he shot as my weapon but each hit i land on him only enticed him more.

He'd gave off a menacing laughter as he tosses me around the room.

He never once bled when I land a blow upon him, he just seemed to enjoy this my effort at resistance.

When he got tired of the game a menacing expression will be planted on his seemingly faceless face as his eyes turned blood red and the air gets cold chilling you to the bone.

"WHAT IS MY NAAAME?"

He'd come up to me slowly as he slung his bow over his shoulder and ask the same question over and over again.

I don't intend to answer because I don't know so I intend to feel him out by having little conversation until he let his guard down.

...^^^...🔥to be continued 🔥...^^^...

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