It's time for a new allegory

I’ve been struggling for so long now. Just flipping lost in a black jungle filled with vines that want to trip me so that I can’t walk more than a few steps without falling, poisonous creatures that like to bite and send me into deep comas where there is no light, and the cold. It’s a bitter cold that seeps through any crack or pore in the skin and wraps its icy appendages around my bones and constricts until all the real warmth I’d accumulated over a lifetime was sucked mercilessly from my body.

The fact that I’ve been lost is not new to me; I’ve just not been able to put it in a way I could understand it. It’s like watching your life from a different vantage point. You can see the bad things happening, even see them transpiring in the distance, and yet you’re stuck on the damn railroad track. Stuck, held as if by powerful magnets designed to work against your very thoughts – so yeah, they ain’t letting go anytime soon. And the death train is getting closer and closer – it sounds the deep resonating whistle that stirs our very blood to the nearness of danger; and yet I still couldn’t move.

My eyes glazed over knowing I was going to be hit, smashed, obliterated by my sheer inability to jump from the tracks. Actually, there was nowhere to go if I jumped – did I mention I was stranded on a trestle over a deep gorge filled with sharp rocks and a flowing river determined to drown me. The train was a better choice, in reality and in retrospect.

And hit me it did. The force knocked me silly, bounced me off the tracks and blew me onto a nearby deserted island in the river. I was numb from the collision, thank goodness. Life was a haze of people calling to me from the river banks, trying to reach me, trying to send me life rafts, life ropes, hell, someone even airlifted in a case of Coke. I appreciated that. I was so lifeless that I curled into a fetal position and didn’t try to figure out what happened to me. I didn’t care. It was quiet on my island, at first. I could ignore people; I could ignore me.

But unfortunately the island became overgrown with silence and the numbness seeped too far into my brain, and those with good intentions just had to have me back. Some people missed me; I don’t know why. I didn’t even miss me. Totally disappearing is an interesting concept. But, here I am now. And, contrary to what people originally thought, I’ve been totally lost for a while because I’ve been forced to exist outside my tiny black island with no cognitive functions. I didn’t have any more metaphors to compare anything to so I’d have a nice order in my head. A way to understand this random new life. It’s been raw, and I’ve been failing - just letting waves of nothingness cover everything.

So I have to find a way to live off the nice black island. No more barreling death trains or islands of solitude. It’s wakey-wakey time.

New: Where I find myself now is standing next to a mangled mess of a large, luxurious car. I think it was an azure blue, and it’s been crumpled in front of me with mangled steel and fiberglass littering the ground around me. I had my safety restraints and airbag and they protected me the best they could – very well actually. But I’m still bloodied and bruised and now confused standing over the wreck that, well used to be my single most important thing (kinda). I managed to crawl out of it, and am still a little to shaken to stand. I sit in the grass medium staring at the gross wreckage wondering what happened – cause I’m foggy on that, like with most crashes. But instead of being alone, my cell is in my hand, there are people in sight, other cars who’ve stopped to help. And I can hear emergency vehicles in the distance. Now, I’m waiting to stand again.