My Darkness

The scratch of a single pen on paper was the only audible noise in the cold, dimly lit room, save for my slow and shallow breaths. As I completed the poem and read it through once more, I discovered how beautifully sad it was. The black ink seemed cry out in pain and despair. Though, that had not been my intention; my intention has always been to be happy. At the very moment I stared at the sorrowful words scrawled across the page, it became clear to me what was true. The suffocating and relentless sadness that silently engulfed me every day could not remain quiet any longer. I finally gave into what I had feared the most; I was depressed.

I closed my eyes slowly and held my breath as I silently tried to wish away the pain of what almost felt like a hand squeezing my heart. This heart-wrenching pain was not new to me. I had felt it before many times, and until now, my pitiful attempts at numbing it had kept the hand at bay.

But, this kind of hurt was nothing close to what I had yet to bear; though I was not yet aware of that.

The days subsequent to my realization continued on endlessly, and I found myself desperately wishing for the moon and my tears to lull me into unconsciousness. Sleep became my only means of escape from the horrible being that consumed me throughout all hours of daylight. My body became an empty shell; I remained visible to all who saw me, but if one was brave enough to open me they would discover nothing but an endless black abyss within.

My miserable demeanor seemed to push away all of the people that I cared for. I was becoming this being's puppet. A puppet whose master's sole intention was to rip every thread that bound me together, and I was freely letting it do just that.

I had made myself bleed on countless occasions in sorrowful attempts to rid myself of this evil thing, and it was in those moments that I would think the most about dying. It would be easier that way, had always been my excuse. During one night, I routinely picked up my blade so that I could let the sadness flow from my body. But something was different that night. At the moment I felt the cold metallic edge touch my skin, I stopped myself abruptly, and I uttered an almost inaudible "No." Though no other visible body was present, I was not talking to myself.

I was talking to it.

I would not give into this any longer. I would not let myself be controlled by something that did not exist in any place but my own mind. That night, I made my own choice. Rather than giving in and letting myself fall to my knees in surrender, I used every last bit of strength I had to severe the strings tied to my wrists. I chose to stand up and fight for my freedom.

Within the following days, I willingly handed my precious blade to my dearest friend and asked him to dispose of it for me. This was one of the most important steps that I ever took, and stone by stone, I was constructing my own path to freedom.

~

Maybe I was supposed to give in completely to the master who had attempted to claim and defile my soul. Perhaps that was the fate I had always been doomed with, ever since the very day I had been brought into this world. But, despite my urges to end it all, I chose to stay.

Looking back on this seemingly endless memory, I have come to realize how strong I really am. A horrible fate had been forced upon me, but I refused to accept that fate. I refused to accept unconsciousness as my only escape from the ugly being who has attempted to victimize me. Instead, I have built a boat from all of the things that I love most dearly to keep me floating over the raging waters of darkness. Although it rains every now and again only to add to the depth of the ocean, I have managed to keep afloat. My boat has become stronger than it has ever been, and I know now how to calm the waves.