My Journey back from black

Today’s daily prompt from The Daily Post:   Tell us about a journey — whether a physical trip you took, or an emotional one.

This post is vague and cryptic in many places but I know that those who are undergoing a kind of healing, whether physical, emotional or going through a process of grieving will be able to relate.  This was rather difficult to write but I am glad I wrote it as part of my own journey.

Back from BlackThere are many journeys I can write about but they don’t speak to me as the topic for this post.    It just seems apt that I pick  one I am on right now.  One that I have been on for the last year.

“The last year” ..  I realize now it’s been THAT long.. the journey “TO” took all of a half year before that.  It was long, painful and heart-breaking.  To move on meant starting the journey back instead of letting my heart wither away in shame and pain. 

Being human, we make mistakes.   And when we come to that monumental mistake where others get hurt, and when others hurt us for the wrong choice we made, not even our remorse and our own pain helps ease the burden of trying to pick up the pieces again when we find ourselves all alone, despite the promise that we would never be.

I had always thought I was a very strong person.  That no matter what came my way, I would find the strength within to pick up the pieces and move on.  I didn’t know that my own folly would be my undoing.  I didn’t realize that my heart was not unbreakable and that in truth, it shattered like anyone else’s.  And that I was not immune to the heartbreak that saw my soul broken into a million pieces and it would probably take a lifetime to put it back together again — if that were even possible. 

My journey took me to a searing blackness.  A darkness that could’ve swallowed me if I had let it.

But I could not let myself just disappear into nothingness.  I had a reason to keep going and because of that, I focused what strength I had left to put one foot in front of the other, a step at a time.  The world goes on, I kept telling myself.  My sins notwithstanding, even with my head bowed down in shame, I found the will to move forward from day to day to day. 

A year has passed.  I am where I was last year that I am not.  My view of the world and the future has changed.  I no longer look too far ahead.  It’s day to day.  I am still trying to find the wisdom to find forgiveness — so that I may be able to forgive myself.  Throughout the journey and even as I trudge on now, I have become my most scathing critic, my worst enemy.  I blame myself for the pain and all that had been lost.

I am no longer the same person.  I’d like to think I’m wiser now, but wiser does not equate to “better”.  

I have retreated into my shell and I find myself bowing my head in resignation.  I no longer ask questions.  I have lost that right.  I have stopped trying to bridge what lines may have been broken —  I have realized no effort on my part would make that happen, and I have no more energy left to keep trying.  Where I would usually raise a ruckus, I just tune out and tell myself I should let it go.  I should just take the blows.

I haven’t quite given up on on my journey back — back to myself.  Hoping that one day I will find forgiveness, and I will no longer be so angry at myself for the wrong choices I had made.  I find the fuel to keep my engine running in a conscious effort to keep myself immersed in happy thoughts where I can find them, while shoving memories that bring me from happy to miserable in a snap deeper into the closets of my mind.  I have tried to focus my energy on undertakings that take me closer to doing things that have meaning to me, hoping to put together what I can from the shards of the me that I lost then.

Even if I am broken, the world goes on.  I marvel at how time has flown by.  One year and then some… I have laughed, lived and breathed — I somehow made it to now.  Yet in those moment of silence when I am alone with my own thoughts —  my anger surfaces again, and I feel a rock where my heart used to be. I curse, I blame, I give in to anger.  And I snap out of it and I am back to the reality of my world.  No matter what state I may be in, I tell myself, the world goes on.

I’m beginning to see the light.  It’s no longer as dark as it used to be.  There is a glimmer in the distance which gives me hope that I will find myself in a better place someday.  Perhaps even better enough to finally forgive myself, and better even if not whole again.  I know many of the things I had lost, I will never get back again.  I am no longer as trusting and as quick to laugh.  When I do laugh, I don’t laugh with as much energy and not long after, I sink into a half-smile as if realizing I shouldn’t be fooling myself into thinking all is well.

Where I used to see myself celebrating in a crowd, now I see a desolate island, with only the sound of the waves breaking the unbearable silence.

So I go on with the journey…  I don’t know where the road leads to or where the end of the journey is.  But with all that’s happened, I think what’s more important is that I’m still on this journey somehow.  And I still find myself smiling from time to time, even if only a wan smile.   I may have had the door shut in my face, but not all those doors stayed shut forever.  One opened again and let me in, even if only to keep myself warm through the night.  There is tomorrow’s sunrise to look forward to — as I go through the journey another day, as I continue my journey back from black.

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2 thoughts on “My Journey back from black

  1. Pingback: Wild Flowers in The Big Woods | MythRider

  2. Pingback: You never know how strong you are… | Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me

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