At one end, a cold, dark abyss with menacing, droning music and wispy tendrils of apathy, shame, and depression wafting out like a gray mist…. Some would run, fleeing the all-encompassing darkness & negativity… If only it were that easy. For others, it’s ironically safe in the numbness of the dark.
The other end… a glimmering scene of twinkle-lights and candles; the scent of hope and authenticity glide on vanilla and almond, while the faint laughter of children and sweet, soulful music drifts in and out, like waves crashing on the shore….
I’m in the middle…with some invisible cord pulling me toward the darkness… I’m desperately trying, with painfully deliberate steps to get closer to the joy… the hope…the peace. The closer I get, the harder I’m pulled back. Inch forward, then slide back… One action, one thought, one step at a time… getting closer…
If I r e a c h out…. I… can…. almost…. make it….
Yanked backward with a jolt… that brief encounter had brought peace, hope and joy… in terrifying amounts. That one moment of fear…fear of the beautiful, unfamiliar phenomenon, made the tiniest little fracture which sent shame, depression and anxiety stampeding up, trampling me, and sending me soaring back to the darkness.
It’s safer here, I guess. Comforting. It’s what I know. Numb, apathetic…lonely. But, then I can’t feel the hurt… sadness… rejection… if I get numb enough, I can ignore the shame.
But numbing the bad, also numbs the good, doesn’t it? Can’t feel lonely and sad, but can’t feel joy, hope, or connectedness… Maybe that’s just how it is for me. Maybe I’m not meant for those things.
Then, I hear it. Ever so softly….
You were made for more this.
I made you for more than this….
Steph, listen… HEAR.
You. Were. Made. For. More.
So I sigh a little, pray a little, wipe the tears, then stand up. And I start over. One action, one thought, one step at a time…