There are some things that are said. That are known by your loved ones. There are many things left unspoken and kept to yourself. I leave much unspoken. I harbour a cave so deep I don't believe it ends. My husband thinks with all of his heart that he knows me through and through. But he doesn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't understand much of what I feel or don't feel.
This cave is dark with the walls rippling in blackness with shades of grey from the shadows. Once your eyes adjusted to the nothingness you would see graffiti carved into the walls. You would see what started out as just words but turned into what damaged a once sweet soul. Words such as ugly, stupid, worthless. Questions like: Why are you even alive? You actually thought I cared? Statements that could make even the strongest people eventually break down: Kill yourself, no one would miss you. No one cares.
In some places there aren't even words. Only emotions that are barely there like a faint mist. Emotions that are numb. Like a person came in one by one and killed off the feelings little by little until there was just enough to just barely breathe. The deeper into this cave you go, the more it feels like you are suffocating, drowning. Every nerve, all your senses slowly snipped away. At one time bright and inviting cut away to be numb and not really there at all.
You look around you and see nothing but darkness. You start hearing voices. The voices of your past. Quiet at first but steadily growing louder and louder until it's all you can hear. Those voices telling you that you don't belong anywhere, that no one would care if you lived or died. Voices that are so loud that it's deafening to the point you start to believe what they say. No one cares, not a soul. You try but the voices remind you that it's pointless. You start to wonder why you are even still here.
It's become hard to stay afloat. You see Death as you finally stumble for the last time, welcoming him as he hovers over you. He tries multiple ways to bring you to his mercy. Ropes, knives, drugs, alcohol, even a gun. You are on your knees, shoulders slumped. You open your eyes to your skin covered in scars. Blood dripping down your wrists to puddle. You look up to the barrel. Achingly numb you close your eyes and ask for the trigger to be pulled.
Done, finished. The voices were right. No one cares, no one can even see the black hole I've fallen into. They've pointed and said 'Die, you don't deserve to breathe.' 'Don't even bother.' 'You are worthless.'. They've watched as you spiraled into a shell. An empty, forlorn shell. The light in your eyes is no longer there. Hasn't been for years. They've watched as you slowly destroyed yourself into nothing. They feel proud of themselves for who knows why.
Death felt welcome at this point. 'Pull the trigger. I don't want to be this anymore.' you silently beg. But the trigger isn't pulled. A warmth starts to fill the hole you couldn't find the way out of. Enveloped in this feeling, you cry. Cry all the hurt and sadness that engulfed you or years until you can't anymore. When you lift your head you see a light that is so miniscule but the pull is so incredibly strong. A pair of arms encircle you and start to carry you. These arms become your lifeline.
The walls begin to slowly change from black to grey to dim colours. You start to feel again. You've begun to breathe without constriction or suffocation. You've begun to feel your strength slowly but surely return. Being placed on your feet that strong hand never lets go. You don't want to let go. It's a safe haven. Eyes never leaving that light at the end of the tunnel that grows bigger and bigger with each step.
You come back out of the cave that is dark and foreboding, into a field of sunshine, flowers, a beautiful tree that has the perfect amount of shade with a stream nearby. You notice a little ways past the tree you see a cave. Not a cave but a hole in the earth with a large rock by the entrance. You finally turn to the person who pulled you from the darkness, carried you and led you from the evil that plagued you.
You knelt at the feet of my your Saviour with tears of joy as a hand was placed on your head. "My child, I love you. Know that I died so you could live. I rose after 3 days so I could be with my Father in heaven. You are precious. You are worthy of love. God doesn't make mistakes. God doesn't create ugly things. You are beautiful. I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. Though your sins were like scarlet, they shall be white as snow."
These are the feelings kept deep within myself. I battle daily with it but I know God is always there. I struggle hard with darkness. Knowing there is light helps. These are things that stay unspoken. These are the things my loved ones couldn't, wouldn't understand. Helplessness and joy. These two things battle at no end. The battle between the dark and the light. The depression and my Jesus. I've come to believe and to know that my Jesus always overcomes or else I wouldn't be here today.
