The Blackness
When it comes, you know it's there. There's just no mistaking it. You can feel it, see it, touch it, taste it. It surrounds you completely like the night surrounds the landscape.
I call it the blackness. I call it that because that is what I see when I'm enveloped in it. In truth, it's more purple, as if black isn't quite dark enough to describe it accurately. And when I am inside of it I cannot escape it. No matter which way I turn, it's there.
It grabs hold of me and refuses to let go. It's grasp is strong and it saps your strength. But it takes away more than that. It takes away your essence -- your very life. The more the darkness holds you the less you are willing to fight it. Slowly, effortlessly, it takes you. Day-by-day, week-by-week, I am less willing to fight it. I think about surrendering -- to the hopelessness that permeates the darkness' very existence.
Survival becomes a struggle in itself. Routines so necessary to live are chores now -- getting out of bed, working, talking with people, being a friend, a husband, a father. It gets to the point where you resent the very things you want to live for. And the things that become most inviting and intriguing are the things that you see as a way to escape the blackness. For me it was the trees I'd pass on my winding road home and the thought of crashing into them at fifty miles an hour.
Something usually does happen and you escape the blackness.
Someone asked me recently if I was OK. There was a not-so-veiled second question in there. The person wanted to know if the blackness had returned for me.
I'd battled the blackness many times in my life. It nearly won more than once. It wins when it kills you. But I am still here. My last battle was my most painful. But I had allies this time. And I was victorious.
The blackness had taken a toll on me through the years. I've had to go to therapy. I had to revisit haunting moments from my childhood. I've had to accept the fact that I need to be on medicine.
I'm not the same person as I was. I'm stronger now. The blackness stands no chance against me. It's claws cn no longer dig into me.
I am OK.
I call it the blackness. I call it that because that is what I see when I'm enveloped in it. In truth, it's more purple, as if black isn't quite dark enough to describe it accurately. And when I am inside of it I cannot escape it. No matter which way I turn, it's there.
It grabs hold of me and refuses to let go. It's grasp is strong and it saps your strength. But it takes away more than that. It takes away your essence -- your very life. The more the darkness holds you the less you are willing to fight it. Slowly, effortlessly, it takes you. Day-by-day, week-by-week, I am less willing to fight it. I think about surrendering -- to the hopelessness that permeates the darkness' very existence.
Survival becomes a struggle in itself. Routines so necessary to live are chores now -- getting out of bed, working, talking with people, being a friend, a husband, a father. It gets to the point where you resent the very things you want to live for. And the things that become most inviting and intriguing are the things that you see as a way to escape the blackness. For me it was the trees I'd pass on my winding road home and the thought of crashing into them at fifty miles an hour.
Something usually does happen and you escape the blackness.
Someone asked me recently if I was OK. There was a not-so-veiled second question in there. The person wanted to know if the blackness had returned for me.
I'd battled the blackness many times in my life. It nearly won more than once. It wins when it kills you. But I am still here. My last battle was my most painful. But I had allies this time. And I was victorious.
The blackness had taken a toll on me through the years. I've had to go to therapy. I had to revisit haunting moments from my childhood. I've had to accept the fact that I need to be on medicine.
I'm not the same person as I was. I'm stronger now. The blackness stands no chance against me. It's claws cn no longer dig into me.
I am OK.
posted by E-Luv at 8:02 AM
1 Comments:
Whenever you see that dark muddy purple coming...think of pink instead. I am pink.
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