I'm going through some of the stuff I've wrote over the last year, keeping what seems exceptional and getting rid of what is unnecessary. I just reread this, went 'hmmm', and so I'm putting it in here. I went through some very dark, emotional times but somehow God has pulled me out and into a better place. I still have some pretty terrible days sometimes but I have a lot more hope.
Cole.
Right now my head space is really messed up. I feel like crying and throwing a fit, I feel upset and angry. It’s probably because I’m tired. I am tired. I don’t feel well and everything irks me. I want to be by myself, but I also want to feel comforted. I know that some of the thoughts I think are toxic, but right now I almost don’t care. A huge part of me wants to do it, to step onto that downward path and see it through. But at the same time that urge is contradicted by the good sense God gave me. I know that it’s wrong for me to think or even consider doing it. But right now, in this state of mind, I feel bad and I need a scapegoat. It makes me wonder if we’ve all got a monster. If we’ve all got that something that is shielded by darkness and offers it’s hand to us when we start to feel down. That sly, deceptive comforter that promises to give us the little something we believe we need to get through. For some people it’s drugs or alcohol, for others a blade to cut the pain away. Some people consume food, some throw it up. Still others find distraction in arms that are untrustworthy or the appeal of a chance with high stakes. Whatever does it; whatever gives us that momentary rush and helps us add yet another layer of scar tissue over the wound that will not heal. The pain that is not diminished. And yes we are selfish. Too proud, too foolish to consider tearing away the layers and facing the thorn that is wedged firmly into our flesh. So we let the pain continue. We let things hurt and further irritate our already inflamed wound and turn to our gentle monster for our momentary relief and the long term scapegoat we need to mask the pain. So, I guess the question is do we give in to these, our gentle tormentors, whose palms are soft and fleshy, whose nails slice like knives. Or do we stand to face the root of the issue and turn it on it’s head? The answer is all at once obvious; but at the same time elusive in nature.
