I stand at the edge, peering down, down into the depths of my mind. Should I jump? It would be so easy… just one more step, and then nothing. Blissful nothingness to ease my frantic mind. Nothing to take the place of the space filled with haunting, destroying thoughts. How beautiful that would be.
Suddenly I am drowning, unable to breathe. My lungs burn, desperate for air, for life. The water presses in on my chest, constricting motion and reducing my will to fight until it is gone. I inhale, choking on the lies I did not want to fall back into. Yet here I am, gasping, panting, tears streaming down my face as I feel I cannot stand one more second of this. I open my eyes, and I am surrounded by darkness. I catch glimpses of others, walking as if the water were not choking them too. I study one, and I see he breathes normally. How did he escape the crushing water? But I see now he is not in the water, I am isolated in the water by myself. Others hardly spare me a glance as they continue past my prison, unaware of the agony.
I am back on the edge. The edge of my mind and hope. Loved ones call me away from it, wanting to save me. I am unsure, and the lies creep into my mind as truths once again.
“Can the dead live again? If so, this would give me hope through all my years of struggle, and I would eagerly await the release of death.” ~Job 14:14