The Agony

There have been days when nothing seemed right anymore. 

Life felt hopeless.

Living seemed pointless. 

The aching in my soul is just too much.

There is no reason to get up. 

There is no reason to shower

No reason to shave.

No reason to eat.

Sleep is my only relief.  But sleep is hard.

I lay awake through the night, watching the minute hand march ever so slowly around the face of the clock. 

I lay in agony as each throb of my sorrow filled heart slowly marks the excrutatingly slow passage of time.

The hour hand moves forward at a painstakingly slow pace.

I curse every breath I take. 

Why can’t it just stop?  Why can’t it just be over?

Every breath is as painful as a stab wound. 

Every breath is mind numbing agony.

My mind asks “what’s the point?”

Why go on?

Why?  Why?  Why?

My only desire is for morbid relief.

I know these feelings are irrational.

But right now that emotion is all consuming.

Many things have led me to this place.

A job loss. A failed marriage.  A loss of self worth.  An acuteness of self-loathing.

Did the eviction cause the pain or did the pain cause the eviction?

Who cares?  Does it matter?

EVICTION – How could your life ever get to this point?

It wasn’t that long ago that you were on top of your game enjoying the spoils of success

What happened? 

How could you become such a worthless morass so quickly?

How could your life become such a mess in just a few short years?

Did the challenges of life deliver such devastating blows?

Or was this emotion simply buried beneath the surface waiting to strike when you were dealt a few bad hands?

Is that thought self serving to the agony?  Just an excuse to indulge in self-pity?

You know you have always had a repressed “moody” side.

You know mom always had her bouts with her “sleeping” sickness.

You know the path you took was filled with stresses that were likely to manifest into these irrational morbid emotions?

Maybe you had no choice.

Maybe it is in your genes.

You know you could get help.

You have gotten it before.  I know, but right now it is beyond my ability. 

This emotion is as controlling as any addiction.  An alcoholic is challenged no more than I as I am unable to reach through this fog of depression to seek out help.

I know this emotion can cause my demise but I am powerless over its grasp.

Nobody really understands the pain.  The grief I feel. 

It feels like an eternal freefall with the pain intensifying as the downward spiral continues. 

With the pain, the agony getting increasing unbearably until tears come to your eyes and start crying. 

Sometimes sobbing uncontrollably. 

The unanswered question goes through my head again and again. 

A gun like Hemingway?  Some medicine like Al? or maybe the Skyway bridge?

I have gone to the Skyway with this agony a number of times. 

Thank God it would have inconvenienced many if I followed through—you know how I hate to inconvenience anyone.

The phone rings and it is my brother asking how I am doing.  I lie and say fine.

The phone rings later and it’s my father, he reminds me I have two kids to worry about.

I tell him I know, but don’t admit to him that is the only thing that is keeping me alive.

How long will that be enough?  How long will that one responsibility keep me alive? 

I know this emotion is not rational.
 
My brother visits.  My brothers and sisters take turns calling.

Their love shows me that maybe there are more reasons to stick around.

I am still broke and jobless.  I still struggle with my self worth.

But I am still here.  That’s one for the home team. 

I have fought this demon numerous times in my life; this past time being the fieriest battle of them all.  Thanks to the help of others, I survived this siege. 

I am sure this is not the last time I have met this demon, I hope I am always as lucky.