Wednesday - Creeping from the Shadows

So … the ugliness of my past will not die, and I am again hounded by the slathering wolves that pursued me from whence.

It seemed so easy, once -- all I needed to do was weather the storm, wait out the hounds, and be free. No such is true, however. It is now clear that, irrespective of time and distance, regardless of my endurance, my Past will not lie dead and let my future form unhindered. I fear now that the egg is so handled, so harassed, so disturbed from incubation that peace will never hatch. It will be stillborn and never pierce the shell.

The light of day shines on the darkness in the corners and exposes it. The hideousness of where I’ve been and what has occurred for me is constant rising again so I can’t stare too long in one place without seeing it. There’s nothing I can do to escape, it seems. Every debt that I’ve left is coming back with a vengeance. There is no hiding, there is no fleeing, and there is no being left alone.

Why am I condemned to be punished for circumstance I couldn’t control? Why must I be ground down and hunted like an animal for things I didn’t choose, didn’t want and never sought? What is it in me that makes the world despise my laughter, my smiling, my rest? Why am I not able to just exist, content to live free of what was and hopeful of what may be? What is it in me that draws the evil forth to confront me?

“Evil” is probably too strong a word. The point is not; I’ve not known peace and calm in all areas of my life for years now, and there is no indication that I will soon. There truly is no rest for the wicked, whether they chose to be wicked or had it thrust forcibly on them. I am destined to forever be tortured in mind and spirit, ever seeking respite, never finding it. Elusive joy, where are you when I seek? Why do you not answer when I knock? Why do you give to me when I ask?

I cannot escape. I cannot retreat. I cannot fight. I have only one option, and it may be too late for that choice as well.

It infuriates me to live this way. It angers me to worry ceaselessly, about everything that may strike out against me. It maddens me to live always in fear, constantly sleeping with one eye open, restless mind churning, wondering, watching. When will I lay my head and dream? When will I close my eyes and see only darkness? When will my heart not flutter, my veins not burn with acidic adrenaline, my ears not ring with the pounding of my own pulse? When can I finally finish with all that shackles me, and run with abandon ahead? I don’t want to live this way; I do not want to have my family live this way. I want only for what I see so readily in everyone around me -- peace. Contentment. Living for the sake of the day, enjoying the moment, not looking out for what may yet lay in wait.

I want the impossible, it seems.

Here we go again. Those who pray, please do; if you are not one who prays, then I shall pray for you.