Have you ever had that overwhelming feeling that the world seemed to carry on, while leaving you behind to drown away into a pit of insecurities? I have a vivid image of myself, shovel in hand, frantically digging my own pit of destruction. It’s quite odd, you know. I can see the light overhead, yet my mind stubbornly tells my tiresome arms to continue digging. The deeper I dig, the darker it gets. Soon enough, the pit has become so deep I begin to get the chills from the coolness of the soil. Again, I see the light overhead. The sun. I’m enticed by the knowledge of its warmth. Nevertheless, I continue to dig. Deeper and deeper the hole gets, yet with all of my arduous labor I am left exceedingly discontent. Why? Why do I continue this?
It’s as though I am blind, unable to see the light overhead. Therefore, unaware of the sun’s existence, its soothing warmth becomes meaningless to my restless heart. Why do I feel this way? I am not blind! I can see. I can see the light. I know of the sun’s warmth. Yet, my actions are as though I am solely controlled by darkness. Aggravated at my pathetic attempt to drown myself away into a pit of sorrows, I whirl the shovel around my head and release it into the soil that surrounds me. The shovel crashed into the soil with a booming thud, leaving a minor crevice, nearly a foot wide. I fall to the ground embracing the sentiments of distress and discontentment. The tears begin to flood. I’m broken. The darkness inhabits me. Fear. Sadness. Anger. Lonesomeness. They write my story. I’m forgotten.
