No matter how many quotes, articles, studies and columns you read on “thinking positive thoughts” the reality is there is nothing that can stop the overwhelming feeling of sadness and gloom that can overcome and crush a person at any given time and when you least expect it.
It’s Monday night. Monday brings me down anyway but today, on this particular Monday I’m feeling like I’m going to go absolutely out of my mind. In the past 12-hours it feels as if I’ve gone through an endless cycle of sorrow, anger, frustration, helplessness, incompetence and utter desperation. I feel as if every role I play in life; brother, son, father, husband, community leader, coach, mentor have slipped on steel toe boots and are kicking me up one side of my head and down the other.
Will it ever end? Does it ever end?
Aesop says that we must, “never trust the advice of a man in difficulties.” In my estimation however, only a man who is experiencing difficulties knows the raw, sensitive nature of his predicament. When I tell you of the pain that comes with being betrayed, the emptiness I feel when someone has abandoned me, the utter misery felt when trust is broken, the telling of the tale cannot accurately depict what only the eyes can precisely portray and only the quiver in one’s voice can convey – the emotion communicates the struggle.
What am I sad, angry about? It doesn’t matter. It only matters that I’ve felt those things today and I’m trying my best to find my way out of the despair. I don’t have access to a shovel so I’m clawing my way out bit by bit with the already chewed up nails of my bloody fingers. I’ll crawl out of the mire of depression in time but not before I have visited sadness over and over again until it is my best and worst friend and when I have finally departed from that place I know that the feeling of elation will be so intense that for a brief moment it will feel as if that one moment has given me the only peace I have ever known in life.
Will it come back?
It most certainly will just as assuredly as sea is full of salt. But when it does I will stare it in the face with indignation. I will not dignify it with any other response. I will fight it with the passion of a gladiator who embraces the remnants of life at the same time he kisses death.
What other choice do you have?
There are but two – you either willingly take despair by the hand and allow it to usher you into the dark world of sorrow, or you spit in his face, take back your life and fight every day until he decides that fighting you is futile.
I choose the later. I will go on – will you join me?