“…so I laugh and I cry…pushing on the bruise…let the pain begin…”
January was a hard month for me. It was a month where I stood on the edge of the darkness and looked over the edge and contemplated on jumping into the mouth of madness.
That mouth of madness for me is depression. I battled it hard in my late teens and early twenties. I battled it on my own. No one knew what I was going through or how I felt. I wasn’t shameful of it, I just didn’t think anyone would understand so I kept it to myself. Somehow, I made it through the darkness and came out the other side alive. And alive was a gift. I had contemplated suicide several times, plotted possible ways to go, wondered if anyone would care or notice…to make those thoughts go away, I wrote a lot. I journaled a lot. It kept me sane and tethered to reality.
Since November, I haven’t written a lot here, in my journal, or in my work in progress. It just took too much thought and too much energy. I needed all that just to get up and live my life…and I wasn’t really living a life. I was just going through the motions of it.
If you watch Touch on Fox, the idea of the show is that people are put on your path at a time of need. In my time of need when I was younger, I crossed the path of Eddie and his dog, Vance. We sat for a few hours discussing life on a beach. I never heard or saw Eddie again and I know without a doubt that he was a guardian angel for me. The week after talking with him, my head cleared the cobwebs of darkness…it slowly started to fade away. I didn’t meet anyone on this current trek near darkness, but I did put a lot of miles on the road. Over 4500 miles to be honest. Each mile was a needed mile. Each mile was a needed thought. Each mile was a needed moment of silence. Each mile was a needed escape from myself. Some people don’t like to travel in a car, for me, it’s my chance to completely let go, zone out, and zen out. I often find myself on the road without a thought in my head. I’m just staring at the road ahead with the headlights lighting my way through the darkness. And just like talking with a stranger, my head has cleared again and the only darkness I have in my life is when I turn the lights out.
“Woke up walking that crooked line.
Covering the front prints left behind.
Gotta keep moving me, I’m doing fine…
So I laugh and I cry…pushing on the bruise…let the pain begin…”
And let the pain heal you…
Categories: Living Loudly