4 walls surround me, separating me from everyone else.
It should fill me with loneliness but instead I feel calm, relaxed and safe.
There is silence all around me except for my steady breathing and the drumming of my heart.
Noise used to fill my life.
People talking and chatting, going about their daily lives.
Noise from telephones and televisions. Radios blasting musical beats and lyrics about love, life and loss.
Voices inside my head screaming at me,
telling me I was worthless and unloved.
They used to whisper in the night keeping me awake whilst I tried to sleep.
During the day they would get steadily louder until they were shouting and screaming,
each voice fighting the others to be heard.
Now there is only me and my memories of what that was like.
But my memories are slowly fading becoming blurry and fuzzy.
Each passing day I lose a little more of the life outside these walls.
Not just the voices but of myself as well.
But it is a small price to pay, the separation, isolation, the quiet and the still.
For inside these 4 walls,
clinically white and bare,
I know that I am safe...
And that others are safe from me.