I was ready to let go on Saturday.
I held on.
I survived. And on Sunday, rescue came along, in the form of an unexpected worship session with Kari Jobe, with an unpredicted trip to the ‘half-price-when-raining’ ice cream shop, with an unprecedented feeling of calmness.
On Sunday, I heard Him speak to me. Finally. After all this time.
You’re not okay. And that’s okay. But you will be okay. Eventually.
Today, I had a GP appointment, a counselling session, and a thoughtful afternoon and evening. I can’t say that the sessions went particularly well, they never seem to be what I expect, but they are something more in another aspect.
There isn’t much to say.
But I do know that out of this… hole. cave. valley, I will come out stronger. I need to be stronger, to fight this… monster, demon, part of myself… whenever it may come back again.
If you’ve ever walked down a dark alleyway on a night where the moonlight is hidden by dark clouds, where the wind whistles words of danger, and where the shadows are a presence that lingers to stir fear into the depths of our hearts. The kind of fear that can be hidden by laughter and smiles, but not be contained for lifetimes.
It explodes in moments and engulfs you as if it were quicksand. The more you struggle, the harder it holds on to you, the more you cry for help, the more of it reaches deeper into you.
In those moments, you cry out, you reach out, hoping that someone will help. They may throw out a rope, but they won’t be pulling hard enough, others may say they understand, though you both simply sink faster, with limbs caught amongst one another. The only rescue is up.
This is still an ongoing battle, but I’ve found my sword and my shield.
Let’s do this.