Mental illness is not a sin. What my mind does with it is.
Americans seem to live in a selfish bubble at this time. Unaware of the world in chaos and pain. What some endure today is far greater pain than anything we can comprehend.
Jesus Love You. Period.
There is darkness in information overload, constant debating turned confrontation and reading the barrage of opinions and rude remarks. We listen, unpack, then regurgitate it back to the masses. All the while, filling our thoughts with worldly nonsense in a brain not capable of holding more. Processing is a function that tires you out. If you don't prioritize your ideas, you will lose ground in mental clarity and stability.
You want a friend to believe in you? I am here. You want to take a moment to see another story than your's, I'm here. We can qualify the narrative that power, greed, and brutality exists among those in positions of trust.
Our hearts cry, and our blood looks the same.
For dead men are speaking, to the world from the grave.
Where something beautiful should be, lies a vacant space only filled with the waste of pain. Years of abuse scavenged every last bit of light—a broken mind from a broken heart.
Chasing disappointments that have plagued me for years now, I am somber. There is a sense of grief for a person I desired to be. My sheltered dreams seem unattainable. Life is more about everyone else than me.
Within addiction, I grasp the realness of a complex problem. Outside of addiction, in the every day hurt of drinking enough to hurt those around you, I am lost.