Ende der Reise
I thought I was already okay. Turns out I really needed a timeout. I spent the last period after the last post realizing that I didn’t overcome pain, I merely repressed it. I was arrogant, being in a profession whose business is knowing and understanding what people think. The next seven months were hell. I fully dove into the cesspool of depression, into its depths. So much that I wondered why I even bother trying live anymore. I don’t have that urge to take my life away. I was so apathetic that doing so is such hassle. I was already self-destructing, zombified and merely surviving.
I was so deep into the darkness that I can barely the light at the surface.
The thing is, I dove into the darkness precisely so that I can find the courage to face what’s left of my life. I realized that I was scared of how I was affected by my previous experience of depression that I tried to avoid it at all costs, not realizing that the crushing feeling will not go away, but will continue bind me into its shackles until I acknowledge it.
It was a gamble that I might have probably not survived.
Thankfully though, I am rising again back to the surface. I would like to be conservative here and not assume that I am out of the icy waters. There are still episodes every now and then, but overall the feeling of being in the driver seat again of your life is returning. My thoughts are once again points to a direction, away from the darkness.
You know that feeling when you are nearing the end of the long journey, when you see your destination but you’re not quite there?
Here’s to hoping I can reach it soon, and then start another adventure.