I am so alone. By choice. By chance. By life. I am a little unsteady. The Enemy grabs a hold, whispering that no one stands by me, and I accept it as truth. The one who understands here is leaving, leaving me alone yet again. There are few people I trust to understand and care for me. Perhaps that is my own fault. Perhaps I isolate myself, exacerbating my perceived loneliness. I know of One who never leaves, yet here where I am not yet home I find no comfort. I reach out, only to fall drastically short of my goal. No one reaches back to pull me up. I cower, curled up as I hold myself when no one else will. I am a burden. I cannot tell others because they have enough struggles of their own. I cannot bear to use them for my own desires. I can survive. I have fought through years of my self-inflicted agony, and I will do it again. One day I may break completely, unrecoverable. One day I may end this misery so I may go home where I belong. Perhaps there is no hope for those who suffer continuously. Perhaps I doomed myself when I became depressed initially. So be it. If this is my purpose, so be it. So be it.
“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” ~Romans 5:3-5