December 21, 2023 - 5:30 pm

"There is no false happiness here. This year felt like a parade of lost blessings, with its days painted in sad shades. I watched, devastated, as your grace adorned the lives of countless people, bestowing upon them what I so much desired. Every day was a fresh assault, an unwelcome intrusion that aroused rage in me simply because it meant another day to suffer. There is no oasis of joy in this arid desert of existence. Dissatisfaction has become a constant companion, a looming darkness that has engulfed every facet of my life. My goal for a successful organization, my own business, remains unfulfilled, adding another layer of pain to my existence."

By Courtanae HeslopPublished 2 years ago • 5 min read

Photo by Joshua Rawson-Harris on Unsplash

December 21, 2023 - 5:30 pm

As the day comes to a close, I seek peace in turning to you, Jehovah, through the channel of Jesus. It's a request for relief as I ponder ending the constant fight, if only for a little while, perhaps the rest of this week. Oh, the instability and misery that this year has sewn into the fabric of my days. Each passing second felt like an eternity of agony, a never-ending march across a landscape of anguish. Tears streamed in an unceasing avalanche from the depths of my broken heart and wounded spirit. Here I am, at the lowest point of my existence, particularly on the emotional and mental fronts, with a single pill symbolizing my never-ending struggle against depression's stifling grip.

The calm of this moment betrays the tempest that is raging within. It's a haven sought in the middle of turmoil, a cry for relief from the relentless barrage of adversity that has defined this year. Each sunset signals the end of a chapter marked by the weight of overwhelming pain, not merely the end of another day. It's been a never-ending trip across difficult terrain, defined by an ongoing battle against a foe as devious as it is ethereal.

Despair has become a common friend in this region of my inner anguish. It's seared into the very heart of my existence, a constant reminder of the never-ending war I fight against forces that seek to consume me. The tears, like an endless torrent, bore witness to the tremendous sorrow that consumes me from inside. They are the physical representation of the anguish that lies in the depths of my shattered heart and splintered spirit.

I've arrived at the nadir, the lowest point of my emotional and mental journey. It's a barren landscape where optimism battles to take root and every stride forward feels Herculean. The one tablet I clutch to is more than simply a drug; it's a sign of my resistance, a little beacon of light in the midst of despair's vast gloom. It symbolizes the unwavering will to fight the crushing grasp of despair, a tenacious opponent that threatens to absorb every ounce of joy and life.

Despite everything, I find the fortitude to turn to you, seeking peace and safety. I try to make sense of this difficult journey via the lens of faith and spirituality. It's a scream for help, a plea for relief from the never-ending avalanche of sadness. The difficulties I am experiencing are not only physical or visible; they pervade the very core of my existence, corroding the foundations of my emotional and mental strength.

In this silent communion, I submit to the faith that somewhere in the immense expanse of the cosmos, a semblance of serenity exists. It's a transient longing for a relief from the never-ending war, a little respite from the internal tempest. I pray for the strength to weather this storm, to traverse the perilous rivers of despair, and to discover a glimmer of hope amidst the enveloping darkness.

This point represents my capitulation on several fronts. Hope, once a light, has faded, and the prospect of an ultimate resolution looms alarmingly close. Could the chorus of dissident voices have been correct all along? Were my hopes and desires only extravagant illusions, the result of an overheated mind? Was my quest of a self-made life a mirage, a seductive dream that would always be out of grasp, leaving me doomed to the mundane grind of a conventional existence?

As the calendar turns toward the end of the year, I have no illusions that a new year or date has the talismanic ability to remove the burdens that follow me everywhere I go. If change was predetermined, it would have found me by now. Uncertainty envelops my thoughts and emotions, as I find myself adrift in a sea of contradictory feelings. A melancholy realization pricks at my heart, suggesting that I did not deserve this horrible destiny. But, in the echo chamber of doubt, I wonder if I'm not deserving after all.

There is no feigned contentment here. This year, with its days painted in depressing hues, felt like a parade of lost blessings. I watched, heartbroken, as your grace decorated the lives of countless, bestowing upon them what I so much longed. Every morning was a new assault, an unwelcome intrusion that instilled wrath in me simply because it meant another day to endure. In this parched desert of existence, there is no respite, no oasis of delight. Dissatisfaction has become a continuous companion, a persistent shadow that covers every aspect of my being. My desire for a thriving firm, my own business, stays unmet, adding another layer of sadness to my life. Nonetheless, I persevere with each morning.

In the solitude that follows, I take consolation in disconnecting—turning off my phone, avoiding the internet's unrelenting reach, and taking sanctuary in the predictable storylines of CSI until sleep, a momentary reprieve, snatches me. Since morning, the seduction of slumber has beckoned, but I fight, knowing that giving in now will result in a night of restless tossing and turning.

However, when these ideas fade, there comes a hollow numbness, a surrender of expectancy. Returning to the drudgery of job seeking beckons, a quest for a distant source of income, a lifeline among growing expenditures. If your providence allows it, the tides will turn and a new chapter will begin. But if not, I'll gather the will to accept this seeming injustice, to enjoy a life tinted by its harsh unfairness.

For the time being, farewell.

Amen.

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