Here I am. Confused as to how I returned to this place of anguish and self-punishment. Maybe I knew I would regress, and maybe I wanted it. These past two years of journeying have led me to compromise my values, some most valuable to me previously. The pain slices my arm, thinly and numbingly. Another compromise. I wish goodbye to the one I never dreamed I would have to, the one I spent all of high school glued to. I have achieved closure, at a cost.
Friends begin to inquire, asking if I am alright. I’m fine. Always will be fine eventually. But it is a lie. I haven’t been alright since last year. I thought I conquered that mountain. I believed I escaped the grasping claws of darkness and depression, yet it holds tighter to my heel now. Darkness invades my mind, painting images I never wanted again, and it leads me to compromise. But I am happy for an evening, content because I am not in my right mind. And I am okay with it. Vague conviction slams my mind to remind me of a loved mentor, bringing a single tear I wipe away to remain strong. But I am not strong, I am broken, shattered, lost in my mind.
I am scared to reach out, because everyone leaves eventually. I have become accustomed to relying on myself because no one has consistently remained to listen to me. A new hand reaches out to me, offering relief, and I hesitate. Will this hand leave me alone, yet again? Can I bear to admit all I have become? Can this hand haul me out of my mind into who I want to be? So I anticipate disappointment. It can only get better from there, right? I wait, torturing myself with my thoughts, unable to articulate the pain.
“For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, “Fear not, I will help you.” ” ~Isaiah 41:13