(Written in a more free flowering, spoken word, format. Hence the lack or over exaggeration of punctuation at certain points. But I write as I am inspired.)
As I stand here looking over the edge of my mental precipice I feel the very tip of my toes try to balance, hang on for dear life as the force of living pushes me closer and closer and the abyss looms darker and darker--the inevitable panic rears its ugly head and my once trusting heart is being battered again and again by the doubts and fears of all that is impending and I am feeling myself come-- undone.
I try to scream but no sound comes out, my vocal chords are boxed into a jail of decency. And all that I am feeling-feeling-feeling-feeling is trapped within and the momentum behind the force of it all is doubling--and I lose my footing. Worry upon worry assaults my tattered heart quickly filling it with doubts I thought had been long banished. They pile upon each other, quickly souring and I turn my nose up in disgust--of myself. How can I lessen the suffering of my family; How can I help her when her body is turning against her; Can I fake it till I make it; Will this paycheck be enough; got moves I'm trying to make-will I succeed or fall flat on my face? We are taking this next step, but I'm scared and stressed as I start having nightmares like I've got post traumatic stress--my heart a casualty of divorce and the scars it has left. The constant conflict of feeling ready, being ready, battling the fear of repeating mistakes and the fear that it will all go the same way! With all the changes taking place--the lack of knowing, growing-- while I'm trying to regain some sense of self in all the developing I am doing--what of my friends? The more that pours in the less can be squeezed out and I already feel like I'm suffocating under all this doubt! I've got nothing left--not for them-not even for my love, let alone myself. This self inflicted tempest that's raging on inside of my being has me off balanced--and suffering!
And complicating all of this is Time who makes me its bitch and there is never enough of it--my family, love, friends and even myself pay the price for it. I feel like the last bit of butter in the tub, being spread through a whole loaf of honey wheat and I have no control over the searing, hot, knife busying itself against my fallible and delicate-softness trying to scrape more out of me than I've got to give. All the while a silent plea falls from my eyes and unto still silent lips--growth-change-progress--the chasing of happiness--is a battle, but I have turned it into a battle against myself. I have forgotten my mantra-my shield- of, "If it is meant to be, it will be." And I have allowed the worldly arrows of fear and doubt to pierce me--contaminate me--and sick I feel myself faltering--.
But amidst this tempest is my infallible core--and from my soul comes a piercing shriek through the howling winds of my tempest, "I WILL GO ON"! Perseverance runs hot through my veins and I am ravenous. I WILL NOT BE DETERRED! Though I may stumble or fall I will always struggle on. By sheer will and the drive of my God given soul, I WILL struggle on through this tempest--I shall weather this storm until I have no breath left, I will struggle on.
