Don't you hate that feeling of "it's happening again?" Like you've struggled for so long and you finally found peace. Then out of nowhere that feeling creeps up on you. It makes me sick to my stomach. I don't want to go back. I'm hungry but sometimes it makes me sick to eat. But when I do eat it's too much. I stress spend despite knowing I can't afford it.
It's hard knowing you're slipping back. It hurts. Like physically hurts. I sit here asking God "why?" Like I was doing so good...I don't want to go back. I don't want to. I don't know if I can do it again.
I don't want to accept that "this is just how it's going to always be." I don't think myself, or anyone, should have to accept that. So I refuse to accept it. I still have hope amongst the darkness and I intend to cling to that. Even if it's not more than a thread, I'll hold onto it. I've made it through this many times before and my hope has always carried me through.
So I'll keep going. I'll crawl if I have to. It will be hard. I'll get beat, bruised, and broken. But because of my hope, I know I'll be ok. I will be able to use my pain to fulfill a purpose. I'll keep going until one day my hope returns to restore what has been broken.
