Trapped
I was trapped. In a realm of darkness with no escape. Every single direction. Darkness. It wasn’t just darkness. It felt evil. A chilling feeling all around me. A feeling of despair. Agony. Loneliness. Insignificance. Pain. Torture. Helplessness. This feeling clouded my mind, disabling me of the mental capacity of knowing the difference between right and wrong. Truths and lies. Joy and sorrow.
Soon I realized I wasn’t just trapped. I was drowning. It wasn’t just a chilling feeling. It was a sea of waves blocking my cries for help and devouring my very own existence. Consuming not only physical body, but also everything I believed in. Everything I cared about. Everything that made me who I am. It was draining me of my soul from the inside. I began to crumble under its power. I felt defenseless. Paralyzed. Weak. I started to lose track of who I was. I couldn’t recognize what I had become.
Just when I thought I had experienced what no man ever should, the drowning seized. Not because I had surfaced, but rather because I was dead. Unable to do anything. I had lost the ability to hope. To dream. The sea of waves became concrete, burying me from the world I had previously known. Banishing me once and for all. My soul no longer existed. I no longer existed. I was merely a puppet. A lifeless body. I lacked purpose. Goals. Dreams.
I wouldn’t even call that a life. Merely existence for the sake of—
There was no point. What did I mean to this world? Why was I worthy of living amongst these people. People with ambition. Love. Dreams.
A man with no purpose is as good as dead. And I had already seen that within myself. Who was I? Why was this happening to me? Both questions I wish I had thought of at the time. But rather, I plunged into depths of darkness even I wish to forget now.
Every single day was a continuation of the next. An endless period of time that ensnared me. Thoughts of death became more serious as time progressed. But what good was death to a man who had already seen it all. Felt it all. The effort itself would be a waste. I had already been emotionally dead for quite some time. Putting an end to my physical being seemed to be a pointless waste of energy that I didn’t have.
What I finally understood was that killing myself wasn’t pointless. Making it sound pointless was my own mind’s way of telling me. Telling me it was struggling to free itself from this cage of venom composed of dark and malicious feelings. It soon showed me that this darkness was its own mysterious doing. I had killed myself. By giving up on myself, I had lost sight of my own goals and ambitions.
But my mind had other plans. It hadn’t quite given up on me just yet. My mind was lighting a fire that would soon spread all over my body. The fire that is courage. Strength. Belief in oneself.
I began to open my eyes to the hospitality in this world rather than the hatred. The concrete began to loosen. It shattered into little grains of sand. Little grains that I learned to be the foundation of my new existence. I surfaced from the dead. No longer my old self. But rather ingrained by new values and beliefs. I regained the ability to dream. The ability to hope. I took control of my body. I became my own puppet master. Gave myself a purpose. The purpose to believe in myself no matter what. No matter what obstacle dared obstruct my path. I learned the meaning of strength. That true strength is a testimony of one’s will. And my will shone brighter than ever. No darkness could ever block my determination. Drive. Commitment. Tenacity. No darkness. Ever again.
With new motivation and purpose, I realized that life is worth living. The chilling feeling became a reassuring feeling. One that always reminds me of my new values: courage, self-importance, responsibility for who I love, perseverance. And as with sand, my new values are uncountable. But it is because of the large number that I am able to now encounter any situation with confidence. I know that nothing can bring me down again. Every single direction I glance, I now see opportunities. Opportunities to improve upon myself. Make myself so versatile, that I seem flawless.
Looking back, I can see that things could have went the other direction. But determination and willpower were on my side and I am fortunate that they were. However, as I look around me, I see similar people. People who mirror my old self. People who may or may not have the determination and willpower to fight the seemingly hopeless battle with themselves. And all I say is, without support even the strongest will fall. I set myself free. I was lucky.