I stand watching the darkness settle in. The black dog comes to torture me. Emotions, negative feelings left behind are brought out like dolls in a toy box.
I fight, fight hard not to fall in the abyss. Mask are taken out of their resting place, the mask are for me, which one will I need today. Lies and hurtful memories are resolved or locked away, march before me as if yesterday.
Fighting the darkness med change after med change is paralyzing me. How does my husband stay, never knowing the outcome of each day. The uncertainty of mental illness disrupts every one, every day.
I believe God has a plan, I’m on a journey with no road map. I trust the tools learned over thirty-five years. This to shall pass, not fast enough, never fast enough.
There is a light ahead I can not see, trusting it will come back to me. When the darkness lifts my mind looks for a positive. What is positive about the pain and darkness engulfing me.
The survivor in me knows the light is there, the darkness will lift. I push and push trying to get loose of the anchor holding me down. What others think means nothing to me, I’m fighting my own battle, a battle they can not see.
As the sound of birds return and squirrels play chase, I see sunshine once again.
Melinda
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