I’m sat here trying to figure out why sometimes, even when I really want to, I can’t bring myself to sit and write about how I’m feeling. Because it is beyond explanation. But I often wonder whether these are the times that I need to write most and whether I should just force myself to get it out into the open. Maybe if I could see it there in words it would be satisfied and go away. Would the act of writing out my thoughts bring to light the answers. What am I even asking? Sometimes it all seems like such a vague mess I think that there’s no point in writing, but maybe I could write it into some sort of sense.
I feel so scarred by the experiences of the last year. Some days I seem to function well, to put on a smile and make it through the day without falling apart at the seems. I wish I knew the formula for it but it just seems to happen.
Other days, well those scars seem to throb, to burn, to drag me down like huge weights on my back and then the hurt just gushes in like water surrounding me and it’s overwhelming, helplessly watching myself drown in a sea of sadness. I don’t want to be here like this, I don’t want to feel heavy and broken. Dizzily, sinking under into the abyss, I get so lost under those waves it feels as though I might never get out alive.
Somehow though, I do make it out. And this is not the sort of trauma that you visibly see so normal life resumes. No one knows any different. I’m just glad to have survived it. I wish I knew where I find the strength … wish that it felt like it gets easier to get myself out of it the next time but it isn’t, seems there is no rhyme or reason, just a coming out of the darkness and back into the light. I’m always looking for the light.
Is it God? Is it hope? Is it my mind growing or my broken heart piecing itself back together and fighting back? Maybe it’s all of those things. Maybe it’s none. I’d like to say I know but truth is I have no idea how I’ve survived the last year. Part of me still feels dead and so many parts of me still feel broken.
If I knew a straightforward way to just move forwards with my life, I would surely do it. But the only way out seems to be through. It feels like I’m stuck in limbo. And so I go on swimming through the endless waves of emotions. Sometimes they relent and there is a brief calm. A peace. A sense of surrender. Maybe it’s just because I forget for a few moments the pain and destruction that seems to have lodged firmly inside my heart.
In those few moments of peace and surrender I want to grasp at the happiness and relish the gratitude I feel, the light that surrounds me before the darkness descends again, and I lose the ability to feel thankful, to feel anything. The darkness swallows me up, brings me crashing back down.
It is beyond frustrating. I guess it would be like clambering a mountain only to slip back down each time. And I am so exhausted. This weary journey to an unknown destination that seems to just get further away. I can’t grasp it, something elusive, which I am reaching for. And each time as I watch my self drown and strenuously try to sit with the pain, hope somehow brings me back to the surface.
Is hope is a choice? Well hope is my choice.