They may not make it out alive. I already found my daughter unresponsive in a suicide attempt, so I am numb to the scenario, yet in fear. As a parent, you never want to accept your child might die, but I acknowledge this painful truth.
Today, I admit my loss, and it's not you, it is me. My identify is gone, and my will to live is slowly dwindling to nothing. I moved from the joy of living to hate of breathing.
The most powerful words in existence are choice and choose. These two words lend to every triumph and trial we face.
(It is #77) What the hell am I doing? I rarely cuss. I hate it, to be honest. If it leaves my mouth, my patience is fried. I may be there today. I watched a movie early this morning. A sappy love film. "How long have you been married? Do you really even know who …
The athlete, the competitor, flaunter, tease, academic, worker, they all found time to be present. In experiencing life with all these spirits, I learned a great deal about compassion, pain, and cries from within. What others didn't see, I saw magnified.
In quiet ravines
And distance closes gaps.
I am Pluto.
You the sun.
To address how far we've run.
Is this a meltdown of sorts? For the first time in my life, I am crying out to myself- not a doctor, not family, not even God. I am internally wailing at myself to wake up, to feel, to live. Yet, I have zero response in me.
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.
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.