The Anatomy of Despair

Author: Joanne Ramilo-Cantiller

Body and soul intertwine - made evident by the physical symptoms of despair.

You don’t know exactly where it resides. It’s just there piercing your very being. It’s a silent hand constricting your throat. Like a coffee-induced allergy that you endure because well, it won’t kill you anyway. It weighs down on your head, threatening to let go only if you imbibe drugstore poison. It wrestler-grips your neck and the soft pillows are no help. The shoulders and back, unexplained twisted bundle of muscles and nerves calling for relief. The arms, the leaden legs needing your will to move. Then there is the stone in your heart.

You don’t know exactly why. Maybe the throat is holding back the words that need and want to be said. Maybe the neck is unable to support the weight of recurring insane thoughts and unrealized dreams. Maybe the shoulders and back wish to give up the burden of the Ideal Self. Maybe the limbs dread the journey to the Twilight that has begun. And maybe the heart has no more room for scars.

You don’t know exactly how long it lasts. Sometimes it is gone in a flash. Lately, for days and days. It just won’t go away. I need for it to go away. Please.