The Jellyfish State of Mind
A breath that did not come was what awoke me.
Gasping for air, I glanced around searching helplessly for something even vaguely familiar.
My bedroom now felt unbelievably cold compared to its usual crisp chill.
I usually kept the windows open year-round no matter what the weather was like
but now, it was unbearable.
An extremely bright light burned.
Shadows.
Shadows were what finally saved my overwhelmed senses.
“Is that what I think it is?” said my mother with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“It’s a jellyfish,” replied my dad.
Shock hid behind the artificial steadiness of his voice.
The single word sent a shockwave through my consciousness.
A jellyfish?
It was as if a bomb had gone off in my mind until suddenly it all stopped.
The panic was pushed out.
The storm blew away, and the shock subdued.
A new thought.
Where was the air?
Still no breath.
The shadows moved and the bright light flickered out.
A sharp inhale.
The water was warm.
It felt nice.
I could finally breathe.
Wait, I could finally breathe?
Instantly the memory hit me.
A jellyfish.
Could the unthinkable actually be true?
My surroundings finally revealed themselves in the dim light.
Below was a field of small rocks that looked as if they could move on their own.
Everything else was a colorless haze that felt as if it was continuously moving inward, surrounding, and trapping me.
It felt like I was in a dream state.
Weightless.
Floating.
Helpless.
But safe.
It was oddly peaceful.
The water around me now felt as if it was a part of me.
I was no longer something sitting in water but was the water itself.
Silence.
I suddenly felt the urge to swim.
I was a jellyfish now, so I might as well get used to it.
It felt like I was on the moon.
While bobbing up and down in the water I slowly moved forward.
Closer.
The vast wall that stood before me gave off a reflective glimmer.
It looked as if it was the mica rock that I would find near a creek.
Closer.
The great wall slowly turned into something more.
The haze now drifted away as I focused my sight on the horizon.
The peaceful feeling again drifted away.
It was a house.
My house.
The familiarity made it look beautiful and elegant.
It was so big.
It looked so nice.
How could it even be possible that inside this house,
there was a goldfish bowl with what looked like a plastic bag floating in it?
I wanted to do something.
I wanted to escape.
What was I even doing?
What would I do if I was stuck like this?
A jellyfish.
It felt icy again.
The memory and feel of the warm water were gone.
The tank was cold.
The prison was cold.
Don’t jellyfish do anything remotely useful?
Do they get anything done?
I can’t leave this tank.
I can’t see anyone.
I can’t do anything that feels remotely fun, but I have to do something.
Could this unreal experience be mirroring my life somehow?
I need to do something, I want to do something, but I am confined in the body of a jellyfish. Floating around mindlessly in everlasting silence.
It is still freezing cold.
The water feels as if it melted away from a glacier,
the runoff going directly into the tiny fishbowl sitting on the counter.
I swim in a circle.
I swim in a circle again.
I swim in a circle once more.
What an eventful day.
I watch the clouded colors of my home through the glass.
Deep in thought.
Thinking.
Hoping.
If I turn back, I must always try to be motivated and determined, even when I feel like a drifting jellyfish, purposeless.
A promise.
And for now, the life of a jellyfish might not be all that bad.
It’s just your state of mind.
They can float around in complete bliss all day with no responsibilities.
Their colorful tentacles flowing gracefully behind them.
Stinging anything that comes in their way.
Maybe my situation wasn’t all that bad.
Maybe...
Sunshine.
Warm bright light.
The smell of fresh linens and clean air.
The alarm of bird chatter sets me awake.
I begin to slowly pull myself out of bed.
The smell of breakfast rising urgently to my nose.
Down the stairs.
“Goodmorning Sweetie! How was your sleep?”
“I had the weirdest dream,” I said while curiously looking at the empty fishbowl on the table.
“What was it about?” asked my mom.
The air fell still.
The room silent.
Something seemed to recoil back into my memory.
A distant feeling of floating.
Almost flying.
Weightless.
A tiny smile.
“A jellyfish.”
Poem was written and submitted by: Sydnee Bryant
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