I am broken. The abscence of joy.
Life has been difficult the last weeks and darkness blooms. I look back and see pain, I look forward and see nothing. The nightmares are back, and I am unable to sleep and feel and think and breath. I look at love and feel despair. I fail to remember my dreams, only nightmares remain. I feel weak. Defeated. I feel the end has come, and all my hopes and wishes reveal their darkest secret: Futility.
And then, in the pain and anger I have the strangest feeling. A deja vu. I have travelled this road before. This is not new. This is not my first rodeo. My thoughts are viscous, they dont flow easily like they used to. But slowly I start to realize: I know this place. I have been here. I have felt this way. I have done this many times. And I have always reached the end of it and came out better.
Life is not over. This is just a fleeting moment feeling endless. In the end I always remembered the treasured thoughts now forgotten. Getting better always starts the same way. It always begins with me remembering what it felt like to look back on a nightmare fading. It begins with remembering I have been here and I did not stay.
And now I realize I have never travelled this road so gracefully. A year ago I would have been too drunk to write this post. Two years ago there would have been nothing to remember. Three years ago I did not know the words. I am falling, but I have learned how to. Three years ago I would have wanted to die. Today I wanted a piece of chocolate. Last year I would have wanted to get blackout drunk and not drinking was not an option. Today I did not get my chocolate and that was okay. I know I can get some tomorrow.
I feel broken. I have felt this way before. And I never was. I have done this before. And I have never done it so well.
I am graceful. The abscence of weakness.
Life has been difficult the last weeks and darkness blooms. I look back and see pain, I look forward and see nothing. The nightmares are back, and I am unable to sleep and feel and think and breath. I look at love and feel despair. I fail to remember my dreams, only nightmares remain. I feel weak. Defeated. I feel the end has come, and all my hopes and wishes reveal their darkest secret: Futility.
And then, in the pain and anger I have the strangest feeling. A deja vu. I have travelled this road before. This is not new. This is not my first rodeo. My thoughts are viscous, they dont flow easily like they used to. But slowly I start to realize: I know this place. I have been here. I have felt this way. I have done this many times. And I have always reached the end of it and came out better.
Life is not over. This is just a fleeting moment feeling endless. In the end I always remembered the treasured thoughts now forgotten. Getting better always starts the same way. It always begins with me remembering what it felt like to look back on a nightmare fading. It begins with remembering I have been here and I did not stay.
And now I realize I have never travelled this road so gracefully. A year ago I would have been too drunk to write this post. Two years ago there would have been nothing to remember. Three years ago I did not know the words. I am falling, but I have learned how to. Three years ago I would have wanted to die. Today I wanted a piece of chocolate. Last year I would have wanted to get blackout drunk and not drinking was not an option. Today I did not get my chocolate and that was okay. I know I can get some tomorrow.
I feel broken. I have felt this way before. And I never was. I have done this before. And I have never done it so well.
I am graceful. The abscence of weakness.