The coffee balcony

I am here in this place of comfortable respite; it is not mine.

I am an intruder in another’s space.

His home of sometimes peace and solitude. Sometimes, solitude and the sinking mind.

The time shared here with my friend has provided me with hope.

Could I exist in a parallel space?

Could I more than exist?

I push away the thoughts.

I exist now.

Don’t dare hope.

I am here in this place of comfortable respite; it is not mine.

I remember sliding the screen door closed as I sat without seeking permission.

I acknowledge the privilege. I recognise it and am thankful.

I can see the horizon.

It is not distant or dizzying.

It’s where I imagine it should be.

I think it's a fact.

I close my eyes.

I’m on the balcony, and with the rain comes thunder rumbling.

Is it finally here?

Or is this just momentary relief from the stupefying heat and humidity?

It could sustain me for a day. A few.

A week?

I open my eyes as the breeze intensifies and there are snap flashes of distant lightning.

Is it finally here?

Or is this just momentary relief from the stupefying heat and humidity?

I shut my eyes to absorb the sweet possibility.

It is pointless.

I can’t stop the nystagmus.

My eyes quick-flick through the involuntary cycle of a racing mind. It’s no longer thoughts; it's an escalation to screaming patterns.

I’m at this stage; beyond the slippery tails to screaming patterns.

And I know that if I can’t make it to the end of the week,

It will be time to make the call for a chance to stabilise and regulate.

I hate this fear and dependency.

I dread an Admission to the Toowong Private Hospital to find sleep and sanity. 

But I’ll fight it because if I admit defeat?

It comes with new subtle punishments.

Then, prior admissions work is undone, and confidence is lost.

http://toowongprivatehospital.com.au

Pauline Fountain. © 2021. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author.