claustrophobia - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Claustrophobia is my gift and my curse. When the walls close in I want to curl my hands into fists and punch right through them. I know they aren't moving but unless I can feel the breeze and see trees my heart starts to pound erratically; my mind searches for ways to escape with all the methodology of a bouncing ball. My stomach lurches, adrenaline pumps and I want to scream to let out all the fear that's been building inside me for so long. I want to scream so loud it becomes not a cry of fear but a roar of one who has been forged stronger by life's challenges.
There isn't a person alive who doesn't fear being closed in, fear being trapped in darkness, fear the monsters who cage us with fear itself. There isn't a person alive who doesn't love the light of a warm sun upon their face, love the breeze in long grasses, love the sight of new blooms. There is always a fire in our hearts burning for the open air, freedom, the ability to dance in any way we wish. Claustrophobia isn't rare, it's ubiquitous, it's just a matter of the degree you feel it.
Claustrophobia is seen as such a deficit, but I say it's natural. We aren't supposed to spend our lives in little boxes, little cubicles, bunched up like sardines in a can. I'm fine in my high-rise apartment, I can forget other people are even around and step onto the balcony to see the world outside. I can roam the countryside on foot or bike, there is a wonderful world around me. I just wasn't built for cubicle farm life and if your honest, if you tap into your true emotions, I'll bet you'll find you weren't either.
My claustrophobia is more about light than space. I can tolerate the smaller space if there is enough natural daylight, enough exits to free flowing air. Perhaps it is an extension of my fear of the dark, my yearning for eternal summer. But when I walk in the light, when I feel the perfumed air or feel refreshing rain, I feel so grounded, so right, so at home in the world.
The cold rock around her was stationary, yet it closed in on her all the same. With each tense breath she forced herself not to hyperventilate on the stagnant air. The key to this was preventing the fear escalating into all out panic. All that could lead to was more terror and the possibility of injuries she could ill afford. The little air that crawled in from the beach beyond at least was some reassurance of its proximity, but she could no longer hear the waves and she had lost track if time. If the sunset had been and gone she should be out and making her way up the rocky cliff to the lip of heather and the wild country beyond. If it was earlier her vivid orange jumpsuit would be soon picked up by the helicopters. The pull of the outside overwhelmed her and she began the slow commando-crawl out, her suit snagging on sharp edges and leaving tell-tale fibres behind. The darkness embraced her; the beach was lit only by a sallow moon, and no stars penetrated the graphite cloud.
I'm in a box buried deep. The pressure of the earth above me cracks the wood and In the inky dark I feel powdered mud fall onto my face. That's the only reason I know my eyes are still there, they sting. I shout and thrash until blood runs from my hands and my fingers are broken. Panic overrides any sensation of pain until I am too exhausted to move, only breath in the smell of my own demise. Then I wake. It's still dark, but my arms can move freely and under my head is the memory foam pillow I bought last week. But still my heart pounds, the night-light should be on, what if I'm just in a bigger box with my pillow? I know it's crazy but I scramble for the light switch as if my life would end in seconds if I did not. When the yellow light illuminates my face all I can do is sit and pant. My night is done. It's time for a walk. I need fresh air and my dog never says no, even at silly o'clock.
It felt like the walls were closing in on me as I forced myself to take a step. And another. And another. I felt like I couldn't breathe--what if I run out of oxygen? My heart rate began to speed up, and so did my breathing.
Karly enters, positioning herself by the window, her head always tilted to the view just a little. Today is the big presentation day, either she or Leona will get the deal. Leona makes a little comment about the light hurting her eyes and pulls the blinds down, eyes on Karly. Sure enough her breathing escalates, cold sweat begins. Karly's fingers tap the desk faster and faster, then as the CEO calls her forwards to present she pulls open the blinds in one swift motion and inhales like a drowning victim coming up for air...
I threw myself at the locked door, almost crying out in frustration. The darkness enveloped me with its cold embrace and I cringed away from its icy touch, though it drew me in tighter with every movement. Everything and nothing folded into me, constricted my lungs until I was gasping with dizziness and an urge to vomit. I held my head in my hands, trying to tear into my skull with hysteria and everything from the past six weeks caught up with me and I was falling, falling into the abyss.
It's quiet. Too quiet. . .
A flash, a creak. There's something lurking in the shadows. An evil no one can see. A monster that torments us. It seeks out the weak and makes itself a home inside of their heads.
Inside my head. . .
I can feel it, raging inside of me. Just under the surface. Just loud enough for me to hear, but there's a door in between us. I had locked it in a room, tried to keep it far away from me.
But it's still there. . .
Tearing through the holes, trying to reach what's left of my sanity. My humanity. . .
It's only a matter of time before it manages to break through. It's been locked up for years, but the door I put between us is starting to collapse, to crumble.
And It Knows.
I looked in the mirror today and I saw it, staring straight back at me. Watching me through my eyes. Seeing everything I see. It's waiting for me. . .
Hoping that I'd let my guard down.
Knowing that sooner or later the door will break.
Lately it's been able to find ways to show itself. Ways to change itself. Ways to change me.
As the days pass, the monster looks more like me than anything else.
I realised that I could lose everything.