Chasing. Not finding. Desperation.
Before the race of desperation started- I was being followed. It was denial, the untrue, an enemy that moved slowly but deliberately. It seemed to know me well, and its presence made me anxious. It heard me increasingly resent and seek a place to hide.
Was this my imagination- this thing following me. Thoughts in the form of fear, not curiosity, made me even more anxious. I began not caring about my thoughts other than to find a way to turn them off.
Then this enemy, one by one, entered the bodies of those around me. Family, friends, Co-workers. I could no longer distinguish their faces, they were a silhouette of how I remember them to be. The only distinguishing feature of their faces was the expression of distance.
They didn’t choose the path that led to my front doorstep of being. It was as if I asked them to enter from the back. I thought I could hide who I had become if they came in a different way.
Most puzzling was who I thought I was before this dark shape showed itself in my reveal. Caring not enough for myself would then be the time I began not caring about others.
This, the untrue, was the worst kind of existence.
My lifelong need to be loved and affirmed stemming from self centered fear then shifted like the earth to a place I did not know existed.
Peace of being, in the midst of truth.
Humankind knows when one does not love themselves enough to care. In this there can be forgiveness, if love can be found.
Someone needs to take the first step to admit the drink has stopped working.
So many are being hurt.
Humankind then seeks to heal and remove the dark shape.
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