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Sunday, September 16, 2018

Written in Black - 2


*Reads Charles Spurgeon’s memoirs on depression* 

*listens to sermons on praying through depression*

*googles “are suicidal thoughts sin ?”* 

*memorizes Romans 8*

Reads. Listens. Writes.
My friends are outside and I try to make sense of what they’re saying. I think they want to come in or they’re trying to get me to come out. Either way, I can’t find the door. So I stare back in near frustration as they wait for me to answer their questions: “How do you feel?” “Did something happen to trigger it?” 
It’s like being stuck in a burning room without a door- they’re trying to get me out but my legs are glued to the ground. Hey, it’s okay if you give up trying, I don’t want you to get burned. I promise you, I really want to get out too.

It feels very alone in this room with no doors but black is here. I can't possibly ignore her with her voice being degrees of decibels higher than what's safe for my eardrums. "You ingrate, the little child living with little to no access to half as much daily opportunities you get doesn't harbor suicidal thoughts ? What is wrong with you? Sick.. sick, that's what you are. You're crazy, irredeemably so" And a million and one other exaggerated and destructive things. 


“Rejoice in the Lord, always I say, rejoice”- Philippians 4:4
"...nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" - Romans 8:39

My last attempt at holding on to the truth as I watched it slip steadily and almost calculatedly off my hands 

*closes Bible app* *stops reading study Bible*
Lord, if you won’t speak I won’t either. Joy is already hard to pin down, now I have to dig through a pile of dirt to find it ? Maybe you are speaking, but there’s so much noise I can’t hear you. My discernment meter is broken because the truth has been distorted so many times. The brain that's supposed to be on my side now lies to me.
Darkness and light cannot exist together, yet black sleeps comfortably in my bed every night. How sway Lord,how sway?! I am now screaming.

I attempt to say a prayer. I utter a few words, something on the borderline of desperation and frustration. Lord, I am not trying to run away from suffering 'cos apparently it comes with this package called life but  please exchange this for some physical ailment so I can at least show people that care where it hurts. It's easier when they can see it... i think. 

"Eli Eli Lama Sabacthani..."

Yours honestly,
Black 



If you’re struggling with depression and/or suicidal thoughts, please seek help. Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK or visit www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org.

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