Imagine the brain, like a room
An empty room full of doors,
And to each door, there is a certain key you need.
In the middle of the empty room, there is a small pot, filled with keys,
Each one to open a door.
When everything in your brain is right, the keys are labeled correctly;
Key A will be labeled A, and will open door A,
And so forth,
But when things aren’t all well,
The labels are switched,
The keys are labeled incorrectly.
Some still work,
But it’s frustrating when you think you have the right key for a door, and it won’t open.
The doors have switched keys,
If you lose yourself in the confusion,
Eventually the keyholes to the doors adapt.
They start to rearrange themselves to fit the wrong key
And that’s when your brain starts making the wrong connections;
It’ll start linking the wrong things,
Pairing up things that shouldn’t be paired up together,
And shortly after, you manage to label the keys correctly again.
But the keyholes to the doors are changed now, so even the right key won’t open the right door.
It’s the beginning of insanity.
From there, a person has a few options;
They can label the keys incorrectly to fit the ‘right’ keyholes,
They can also just change the keyholes so they were on the right doors,
They can also just attempt to break down the door,
Not taking into consideration the damage they might cause themselves,
Damage that will never be undone.
Once the door breaks, it will open for any reason.
It can be opened from the things inside and out, leading to the person struggling with things coming out when uncalled for.
The lightest touch will open a broken door.
It no longer needs a key and is beyond repair.
But… Not everyone breaks down the doors when the keyholes are switched.
Not everyone relabels the keys once more.
Not everyone goes through the trouble of changing the keyholes to fit the proper door once more.
Some just… sit in the middle of the empty room,
Clueless of what to do.
They can’t reach the door to process their thoughts.
They can’t reach the door to give them strength.
They can’t reach any of the doors.
They can’t reach the door that would have the tools they needed to do something.
So they just sit and wait for something that might never come.
They slowly slip into insanity,
In the silence of their minds,
The empty silence.
The doors don’t move,
The keys stay in the pot,
And the person sits still.
After enough time being still,
The floor starts to sink,
And gradually, when they didn’t think there was a way,
They fall into a new empty room,
A new empty room with just one door.
It has no key,
It has no keyhole,
Just a small little label indicating it has to be pushed to open.
But on the door, big letters are carved into the wood.
“Let’s try again”
And when the person, after being so still, sees this
They realize they didn’t have to do anything.
If they tried to fix the keyholes or relabel the keys,
Or even break down the door,
They would do themselves more harm.
So the person gets up and goes over to the door.
They push it open,
And climb up the stairs leading back to their precious empty room full of doors and keys.
The time it took for them to get back in there,
Was all the time the room needed to fix itself.
Sometimes a person just needs to get out for a little bit,
For their brain to fix itself up and get ready to start again.