Homecoming

I was gone for more than two weeks.  I was gone and there seemed to be no way to get me back.  My mind was in a hellish place and the lie that became an obsession was that I shouldn’t be here anymore, that the only solution to save me and others from my pain was to permanently leave.  The evil lies were drowning me and I didn’t know how much longer I could fight.  Two weeks was too long.  One day was too long.  One hour felt like a year.

I felt so alone.  I was sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness.  Living seemed like less and less of a viable option.  The details created themselves in my mind and wouldn’t leave – images and ideas of how, when, where, created an inescapable storm inside of me that was beyond frightening.

A very distant, most authentic part of myself saw all of this unfolding with horror.  This part was so far away and it’s voice so quiet that it was almost drowned in the storm.  Although I barely heard its pleas I pushed through the darkness enough to overcome the shame of telling someone.  The shame was unbearable because this time the situation was worse than it had ever been before.  Everything was worse: the images, the impulses, the frequency.  I was in despair because I was going to lose the battle.

I wasn’t alone.  I was not alone.  There were a few very close, trusted people who helped me come home from this journey through darkness.  I shudder when I think of what would have happened if they hadn’t been there.  I felt like there was only way out and that I was alone and that this world would be infinitely better without me here.  These are all lies and I am not the only one who has had to face them.  Please, Friend, know that you are not alone.  If you are in this hell please hear me:

You are precious
You are irreplaceable
You are LOVED

 

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