Lighting the Dark.

You open your eyes, but all you see is the dark.

The air gradually becomes thicker, as your lungs struggle to expand.

There is soot in the air, coating your skin thicker with each toxic breath.

You begin to grasp at the darkness around you only to find you’re encapsulated.

Walls surround you.

There are no doors.

There are no foot holes.

There are no windows.

There is only deepest dark and loneliest alone.

How did you get here?

You used to see light. 

There were once steps lining this space, allowing you to come and go as you pleased.

Then, the air was clean, fragrant, even.

You had friends.

People who would bring joy to your small area, light lights, open curtains, feast on laughter.

But all of that’s gone.

You begin to cry.

A few tears trickle into giant, ugly sobs.

And the echoes drown out the heartbeat you’ve long ago forgotten is your own.

You sob until you are numb.

Until you no longer see the dark or attempt to climb out of your trap.

You lie down in the puddle of tears you’ve just created. 

When you finally stand up, drained of the last sliver of humanity you had, you think strongly about sitting back down and dying.

It would be a slow death, but it would be a death tens of thousands before you have accepted.

But something inside that darkness is telling you to stand on your tip-toes.

When you do, you push your hand up and touch the top of what’s containing you.

The faintest gleam of hope stirs in you.

Your eyes widen.

You now take both hands and feel the ceiling above.

Before you even have time to think about it, you’re pushing up with some form of strength you didn’t remember you had, throwing away the piece that just held you captive for longer than you care to remember.

And then you see hands.

Hundreds of hands, reaching out to you, to pull you from your pit.

Once you’re out of the ground, you remember how you got there.

You built that pit. 

Even surrounded by all these outstretched hands, you dug yourself a nice little hole, jumped in, and pulled a lid over your hiding spot.

So no one would find you.

--------------------

Friends.

This is what life is like when we do not allow people in.

Before I allowed people into my thoughts, into what I thought were such dark places no one would survive even a small glimpse, I felt a lot like what I described above.

I didn’t remember how I’d gotten to that place, but I knew I hadn’t always been there.

I knew I didn’t want to stay, but I felt like there was no way out.

And that’s how darkness wants us to feel.

Like, sure, we may have had something good before, but now, we’re in the dark, and we had better learn to like it, since there’s no way out.

But I promise you, that’s a lie.

There’s a way out. 

Sharing the precious things on our minds and in our hearts can be difficult.

Feelings of shame, embarrassment, and fear of what another may think often keeps us backed into our own self-made caves, cowering in and clinging to the darkness.

But you know what?

All of us have a few of those caves.

And I wonder what would happen if we got brave and brought a friend to our secret spots?

I think we would be more likely to look at each other and remember that we’re all fighting our own battles, every single day.

And we all just need someone to come in, see our darkness, give us a giant hug, and help us open our curtains.