Have you ever been on a train where everyone on the carriage feels like they are out to get you?
As if they are all staring and frowning at you whilst they are sat looking into their phones or a book or probably just thinking about their own run of thoughts. Absorbed in a completely different orbit to you. But still it’s as if they are all staring and frowning at you?
As if every movement someone makes with their hands or their legs is to move closer to you and hurt you. To intrude your space, and to trap you. Moving to make themselves more comfortable, or take off their coat because they’ve got too hot running for the train. But still it’s as if every movement someone makes with their hands or their legs is to move closer to you and hurt you?
I’m sat on a train now.
Ordinary people, coming back from an ordinary day at work.
Not threatening but threatening to me all the same.
I try to remind myself of that. But my body fuels me with energy, challenging my reminders. I’m battling with this constantly. To and fro. I’m ok, now I’m not ok. No I am ok.
A conveyer belt of normal day to day life enters the train and leaves it. Normal day to day life that once I wouldn’t blink an eye at. Maybe I’d take an interest in it, or smile at it, But now it’s a conveyer belt of fear. A conveyer belt of constant threat and analysing and then managing to calm. And then quickly it goes round and round again.
Now we are at the station, and a whole new crowd of people join. A whole new crowd of frowning faces staring back at me. Or staring at their phones or their books. A whole new crowd of arms and legs moving towards me, to hurt me. Or moving to adjust themselves or take off their coats.
People start to fill up the aisles and the doorways and so I can’t see through the windows for the next crowd of people who might join.
People start to fill up the aisles and the doorways and everyone is getting closer to me. But actually closer now. Before they were further away and that felt close enough. Now they can touch me. They do touch me, but accidentally. They aren’t going to hurt me. Arms go across my body to reach for the handrail. I think the arms are going across my body to reach for my neck. To trap me and hold me down. To stop me breathing.
It’s dark, and a wave of emotion suffocates me. He’s here, but he isn’t here.
I turn up my music, and keep looking around me.
I try to make myself a bit smaller.
I move so I can see the door, checking who is on the platform.
Who do I need to look out for next.
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