I was captured. I was a slave. My captors threw me about like I didn’t matter. Maybe I didn’t…
My first captor’s name was Anger. She practically burned me alive, from the inside out. She made me do crazy things like hurt the ones I love. I didn’t like her but I let her use me for what she wanted. I let her take over when she wanted to.
My second captor’s name was Selfish. She wasn’t that bad…most of the time. She made me take things that weren’t mine and wouldn’t let me help others that needed me. She was greedy, unkind. She wanted everything, especially the things she couldn’t have.
My third captor’s name was Unloved. She was always bitter and she rarely spoke a word to anyone. But when she did speak they were always loud and obnoxious words. She always tried to hide it, but I could sometimes hear her cry at night.
My fourth captor’s name was Lonely. She was ugly. So ugly, it hurt your eyes to look at her. She was the worst of them all. She did not hurt me with her words but with her actions. She locked me up into a terribly dark and cold room and left me there for days. I cried for her to help me but instead she laughed at my pain. Now that I think about it, she never really was close to anyone.
My fifth captor’s name was Unwanted. I don’t really know why she was there. Nobody ever needed her to do something. She wanted to be needed for something but she never was. She always followed everyone around hoping to help in some way but she never got the chance to. She just wasn’t wanted.
My sixth captor’s name was Self-hatred. She was a handful. She never really was satisfied with herself. It got so out of hand that she even hurt herself… I felt bad for her, but I let her do what she felt was going to ease her mind.
My seventh captor’s name was Sadness. She never smiled, she would always talk in a sad way. She would keep me company, but she never shared why she was so sad… She seemed to think no one would care. That it didn’t matter. She was always lost in thought, thinking about who knows what. She cried a lot. Whether it was alone or in front of everyone, she would cry. No one cared to know what was wrong.
My seventh captor’s name was Fear. She was always afraid, never did anything too exciting. Whenever she got the chance, she would hide away and try to find her peace of mind. She would jump at every little thing. She was also afraid of getting too close to anyone. She thought they would end up leaving her and she would just get hurt in the end. As much as she wanted to have friends, she was just too afraid.
My eighth captor’s name was Shame. She always lived in her past; always hated herself for what she had done. She never told me what it was, what she had done. She was too ashamed of it to tell anyone. But she did tell me that she’d rather die than have done what she had.
My ninth captor’s name was Hope. She was lovely. She was the only one that really cared for me. She cared so much for me that she helped me escape that living nightmare. She led me out of that place, wherever I was. Since I didn’t know, I asked her what that place was called.
“Depression.”
Even the sound of it made me sick. I never went back to that place. Whenever I started to walk on the path that led me there, Hope would come and lead me on the right path. We met others on the way. Love, Kindness, Confidence, Happiness, Friendship, Respect, Pleasure, Security, and so much more…
I think for the first time in my life I feel free.
Free from the chains I locked myself to.
Free from my old ways.
I am finally happy.
