Tuesday, May 1, 2018

To The Mountain.

After he died, the rest of my life and environment was consumed by an avalanche of grief. 
Every word and interaction felt threatening and harmful. While the intention may not have been so, I could not interpret this foreign language of love and concern..

The only solace was within the boundaries I began to establish toward those whom I called Friends, and Family. 

Upon doing so, my eyes were opened to my own misgivings and failures. My new found perspective became daunting. Every process became cathartic. Every time I closed my eyes, I was afraid of not seeing the sun again. I was embraced by the cold vacuum of fear and doubt. My insecurity became a hollow beacon that forced me into seeing a harsh and cold reality that I had perpetuated. 

I was a projection of everyone Else's ideas about who I should be. Or who I perceived myself to be through their eyes..

Addiction.
Denial. 
Lies. 
Deception. 
Betrayal. 

Each demon growing stronger and stronger as hours, and days progressed. 

Grief was the gateway to my truth. 

Grief was the reaper of my losses. 

    I thought I lost the purest parts of myself within this deep chasm of depression. 

It took several strangers to awaken the numb limbs attached to my body. 

Therapy.
Decompression.
Admission.
Repentance. 
Forgiveness. 

    I miss you. 
I wish it could have been a different road that lead me to find my truth. 
Your death was the storm that washed away the facade of what I thought was my reality. 

I never wanted to hurt the people who helped me get here. 

In the last year, or in the last decade. 

   It will take a long time to repair and make amends to those people. 

I will have to trust and follow the path that leads me to healing. 

I will have to accept that not everyone will be ready to hear or heal. 

  I have to forgive myself for what I have left in my wake. 


-z



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