The First Wall

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It has been a rough morning. My body is still adjusting to a dramatic change in medication. I ache. My mind feels clouded. Replaying in my head are the words, I CAN’T DO THIS! I’m staring at the first wall. Myself. My will. My attitude. That which -with no small amount of exertion- I can overcome.

This dark, this hard dark, can be so overwhelming; and it is easy to forget that within there is a light strong enough to pierce through the thick cloud of it all. I just have to ground myself, find my center, and grasp for it.

I confess my frustration with this daily battle. Fighting back hordes of negative thoughts instilled from a foundation of abuse. Teach a child they are worthless, and they will struggle with that belief for a lifetime.

wallpaper-Vintage WallAs easy as it would be to sit and wallow in this place -to curse and blame and accuse the past- it does no good. It neither makes me better or magically creates a better past. Instead I must choose to take hammer in hand and begin chipping away at this first wall.

It will come down in time, and tomorrow it will be built anew. The question is will I choose to break it down again, or will I cower in its shadow?

Today, may love, life, and light be yours. May you face your demons head on, and may you kick the ever living shit out of them. We are beautiful, so let us choose to be that today.

Blessings.

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About Z.

Poetic pipe and cigar enthusiast rifling through the haunted memories of a not so distant past while openly wrestling with faith and God. A rambling writer with the misguided notion that he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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