Imagine standing in the middle of the woods surrounded by endless trees. Evergreens and oaks, both young and old, loom over and around you. You can’t see the sky because the trees above you are so dense. It’s getting dark, like dusk is approaching, though the day has just begun. The trees hang down over you just out of reach, sumptuous thoughts growing from its branches.
You look out into the trees trying to make out what lies beyond, but your vision is blurry, and all you can see are the faint outlines of flying beings around you in the distance. When you look down at the forest floor, you see dead pine needles covering the damp soil that holds up the trees by their roots. There is a heavy fog in the air, suffocating but cool. It strangles you like carbon monoxide.
Around you, it is oddly silent. The more you think about the silence, the less you will hear. If you try to imagine peace within this you will hear the raging demons, the screams of terror from the beings of panics, the constant questions from the anxieties. You will hear others in the distance, sounds that are giving the same effects sharpening a sword or carving a club would give you. You recognize the sounds, and though you can’t quite pinpoint what it is, you know them to be the sounds that come before your torture.
The anxieties scream questions at you, they demand answers, solutions, and explanations. They are flying all around, while the panics are screaming as loud as they possibly can. You hear screams, questions, conclusions, weapon construction, insults, and criticisms. You then notice a faint sound coming from above you. You can barely hear it, but because it is so much softer and much more pleasant than the chaos around you, its music slips through the chaos. You look up into the trees, but you can’t see anything. Spinning around, searching for the music, you try to find the source, but as fast as it appeared, it has left, and you are back in the war around your clearing.
When you return, you feel a slight amount of anxiety, and the anxieties around you sense it, and all at once, they jump onto you, pinning you to the ground. They interrogate you, they pull you in every direction both literally and figuratively. One punches you in the stomach, another is strangling you, a third shakes you, and another one sits directly on your chest. While this is all happening, you hear above the questions, the footsteps of the demons running towards you. They beat both you and the anxieties which only angers and scares the anxieties more. The panics watch from all around screaming and panicking about what it is witnessing.
The soft music returns. You associated the soft music with a bright, golden stream of sunlight as it always appeared as the music plays, but as time has passed, the light has faded. You don’t see the light anymore, but you desperately wait for it to return. As the music plays, the demons and anxieties retreat slowly back into the woods out of the clearing. They return to their normal business of spinning and screaming and criticizing.
You look around for the light only to be disappointed yet again. Then you look down at yourself and see all the bruises, cuts and burns. You see your injuries, yet you can’t feel any of them. You don’t realize how serious they are until you hear some voice from above urging you to get help. You hear the music continue to play, but you don’t know how to find your light again. What hope you have left fuels the music, as it used to fuel the light as well. But your hope is fading, and with it, so does the light and the music.