What do you do when you reach that point where everything you believed in has seemingly failed you? When you feel as though you are trapped at the bottom of an abyss with no way to climb up. Though you try and struggle to climb you end up falling down again. All you have to show for your efforts are blood soaked hands where you cut yourself trying to grasp at something, at anything that will hold you secure.
That is where I find myself these days. I have heard it all:
“Believe in yourself”,
“Do these steps and you will go far kid…”
“Jesus Christ will help you if you do this…”
All of these platitudes seem as vanity to me. Perhaps I am being a spoiled brat. I should be grateful to just be alive. Well excuse me if I still desire and hope for more. When I was 17 I accepted Jesus into my heart. At 33 I watched it fall apart and God did nothing. I went from having a career to pushing boxes of books around an office. I went from being married with my own home to living with my mom again. A victim of ruin that follows most men after a divorce.
Despite all of this a part of me still hopes. I raise my scarred hands to grasp at the blood soaked rocks of destiny. My broken spirit still tries to soar to the heights of success. My cold and shattered heart still looks for the warm comfort of love.
This is my existence. Indeed I find myself wondering if life is more about the struggle then the goal. Perhaps suffering is what we are here for? Is emotional suffering what I am here for?
I don’t know any of the answers. All I know is that I will keep on trying until the peaceful embrace of death takes me. As a wise vampire with a soul once uttered “If nothing we do matters then all that matters is what we do.”