You're trapped at the bottom of a ditch ten feet deep, and suddenly, someone starts shoveling all of the dirt back in on top of you. You lose sight of the sun and search for a rock or a tree root sticking out of the side of the earth - anything to get you closer to daylight - all the while, dirt and pebbles and grass are showering over you, bruising your forehead anytime you attempt to lift your gaze.

You eventually find a nook in the wall of clay surrounding you and start climbing. You're hopeful as you see the bright sun and blue sky above you, only to realize that the ditch has gotten deeper. Your progress is for not. Higher ground seems unreachable, another world entirely, and you're down in the dark, all alone.

"Escape is hopeless," your conscious repeats. You try to drown it out with thoughts of home, but the chilling voice of sadness overwhelms you.

The tears flow endlessly, filling up the ditch that has confined you. As the salty, muddied water rises, you flounder as you start to believe that your only option is to drown. You struggle against your tears for what seems like hours before you come to the revelation that the waters have reached the top of the ditch, overflowing, and that you've risen with them. 

Sunlight warms your back, drenched and cold, as you climb out. Weak from your endeavor, your legs give way underneath you.

A victory cry escapes your lips as you savor the green grass and blue skies stretching out before you.



Carrie Robinson said...

Beautiful... I have struggled with anxiety and bouts with depression. I used to compare my worst days like being stuck in the bottom of deep well. You can see the opening way above you, the light. But you can't find a way to climb out on your own. The walls are smooth, no place to grip.
This post really resonated with me.

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