Resurrection
By Teneille Clerke, Melbourne, 2009
Waves of bliss roll through my body. I’m filled with a warm sensation running up my core, it’s similar to the pangs of emotion I felt when I first fell in love. Butterflies. Everything feels amazing, my body, my skin, the air. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m connected, I’m something more, we’re something more, I belong. All fear falls away and I’m left with a sensation of peace. I’m 21 years old and I’m standing in a room full of people. I’ve just taken my first ecstacy tablet and I’m suddenly awake.
I want this feeling again. I want to belong. I want to feel love. I want to fly. I want my skin to tingle. I want to love the strange sweaty girl I meet in the line for the toilet. I want to hear the best song I have ever heard in my life. I want to say profound things.
But it never lasts and my world becomes darker than before.
I begin to chase one feeling off with another. I search in dark places for light, only to find more darkness. Friends become enemies. Families become strangers.
So many people around me but I make my pleas for peace alone, where no one can hear.
Sleepless nights full of anxiety and fear. I drag myself through the day and spend the evenings between the back porch and the bed. One cone after the other. Hazy numb peace at last.
But like a clear picture suddenly appearing on a TV full of static, my hazy numb peace is interrupted. In and out I fall of two realities. Dreams? Delusions? I don’t know. I’m in between two worlds.
Intense fear of losing control. My heart races until it feels it could burst out of my body. There’s nothing I can do. My body turns to pins and needles. I can’t feel my hands. They look twisted, stiff, contorted. Panic, fear, hopelessness. Am I dying?
I fear labels. Deep down I know I’m turning mad. So I choose silence.
How long can I live like this before it starts to show? Not long. But it seems I meet the right friends, Xanax, Cerapax, Lithium, Temazapan. They’re all here to help.
But, there’s something inside me that yearns for something more. A tiny whisper I can barely hear over the chaotic sounds in my head, but I hear it.
I ignore the voice. Another voice? This kind of madness has a name. I dare not say it.
The voice gets louder and I refuse to listen but it still persists. I pray for something, anything. I cry out to the universe in desperation.
I’m sent an angel. My angel tells me she too feels mad. I feel relief. I pray to know more.
This time an angel gives me a book.
‘Am I Going Mad?’ comes into my life. I cannot put it down. Again I feel relief and with the answers to my questions I begin to feel blessed.
The chaos, the drama, the hate, the fear, that’s the delusion and I can find peace. I begin to find peace. I can quieten my mind. I can see and hear clearly. I am awake and I see now who is mad.
I learn to meditate. I learn to make space in my mind. I follow my breath. I listen to my heart. I dance. I dance my soul. The chaotic sounds in my mind move further and further apart, and I can be in silence.
I sit in silence, not needing, not wanting. Slowly more fear falls away and there’s room for more peace.
I sit in silence, and there’s room for more answers. More fear falls away.
I sit in silence, and I surrender.
I heal from the inside out.
And as I sit in silence I remember. I remember that I always belonged. I remember that I am forgiven. I remember that I am loved. I remember that I am.