One-two, buckle my shoe …
Thump, slam, crash. Scream out loud. There it goes again, and again, yet again.
Three-four, knock at the door … scream out loud.
The knocking is inside my head, in the space between the front of my skull and between my ears. It is there that the pinball machine resides.
The metal ball-bearing is rattling around inside my skull. Each time the ball-bearing strikes, it generates an electric shock. It is a mild shock, not life-threatening, or indeed life-ending; just mild. Like the sound coming from the dripping of a tap … just mild, not deafening.
Every little electric shock makes my body jerk, just a little, not wildly. Thump, slam, crash. One-two, buckle my shoe. Scream.
Optic nerves are shrinking. Every time I move my eyes, a hissing sound rushes through my ears, and a searing pain shoots through the nerves from my eyes into the bowels of my brain. This excites the ball-bearing, and it crashes around wildly … sting, sizzle, fizz goes the electric shocks. Over and over again. Scream.
Every time I move my head, even just a little, my eyes hurt and my ears hiss … Three-four, knock at the door. Scream.
Like the persistent dripping of a tap – every single drip increases in intensity. The pinball machine moves to the next level. Lips tingle and guts wrench. Every last molecule is ripped from my gut. Feet can only shuffle, and my head hangs limply.
My doctor took me off Venlafaxine; it’s a week without any antidepressant, and my body is starting to experience the horror of discontinuation syndrome.
There it goes again, and again, yet again. Scream.
Mild, yet so intense.