Been suffering for the last 18 years with depression. Things have gotten worse and I have isolated myself which in turn has meant, I've lost my job, the bills are piling up and I've lost the motivation to believe in any help. I have been writting as I find it helps, a little and if it's ok I'd like to share some with you. There is a question though which is this: How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?
Hope it's ok to share, I've almost posted but didn't see the point at the time. Looking back over the last 18 years, all the points of recovery and relapse, I kinda feel enough is enough. Bit heavy I know
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?
Demons descending from the depths of the darkness, like hail from winter storm clouds.
Swirling, swishing through the shapeless shadows that lurk in every corner of the night filled room.
Faces, twisted, tormented, tortured, wilfully whispering away the chance of any new dreams. Can they be of a malevolent mind when they are on the outside?
Insipid insight fading fast, just as the sun does at the onset of evening. And among it all a self once lived in.
Unnoticed were the subtle changes from suspicion to fact. Those positive points of reference now banished beyond the point of which there is no going back.
Clinging to the slippery, silky, slender threads of reality. Clutching, holding on for life and limb knowing only too well that the tenuous ties had long been withered.
Memories of motivational quotes are now nothing but footprints, left, imprinted in the devastation and destruction. Thoughts of 'It will be ok' echo endlessly in the distance as each finger releases it's fragile grip. The last hope flying loose, like an untethered kite climbing on the soaring spirit of the stormy wind.
The only option, to let go and allow the tempest to toss this festering life aside. Descent into the calm, calculating, eye of the ensuing storm, the only sure chance of respite from the invasion of this lifeless living.
The beleaguered battlements have been brought crashing to the ground. Empty and barren are the armouries that once fought this dreaded deadly foe. The only thing left is the resonating realisation that some times, from the smouldering cinders, there comes nothing but the wind blown ash of a self that once was.
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?https://www.carenity.co.uk/forum/other-discussions/living-with-behavioural-disorders-mental-illne/how-then-from-all-this-can-a-life-be-reclaimed-3922015-06-20 00:03:42
Unregistered member
20/06/2015 at 05:53
Yeah thanks for sharing your vid @Freedom. Knda presumes though that somebody doesn't have faith or religion or spirituality in their lives already. Perhaps that's something else I've got wrong to add to the list.
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?https://www.carenity.co.uk/forum/other-discussions/living-with-behavioural-disorders-mental-illne/how-then-from-all-this-can-a-life-be-reclaimed-3922015-06-20 05:53:51
Unregistered member
21/06/2015 at 03:06
fionn. It wasn't meant to presume anything and it isn't meant to point a finger saying "you've got it wrong"! It was aimed at showing how people with difficulties and a pile of unopened mail, could be redeemed.
It would be good if new members took a look at profiles of longer posting members on here.
By that measure I had NO faith, religion, or 'spirituality' up to 14ish years ago. I was as wrong as many people. I had been involved in horoscopes, lucky charms, good luck, hypnosis, self-hypnosis, Buddhism....etc, etc as I back-packed my way around countires that 'seemed' to have something to offer a lost and depressed soul. Thailand, India, Tibet, etc had their attractions. But my life was about to take a major crash.
When a Loving father and the Truth of who you are, why we are here (on planet earth) and where we're going its presented in cold hard factual truth, and your life becomes transformed, one cant help but want others to learn, know about how their lives can be set free and transformed........
I also used to be Mechanical/Manufacturing Engineer. We are taught nay drilled in to us about finding out the truth, absolute truth about all things on how they are made to a scientific, molecular, physical point of view. Life is black and white, absolute or incorrect. When the Truth of Jesus is presented to me over a 10 week course. The truth, light comes on....
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?https://www.carenity.co.uk/forum/other-discussions/living-with-behavioural-disorders-mental-illne/how-then-from-all-this-can-a-life-be-reclaimed-3922015-06-21 03:06:24
Unregistered member
Been suffering for the last 18 years with depression. Things have gotten worse and I have isolated myself which in turn has meant, I've lost my job, the bills are piling up and I've lost the motivation to believe in any help. I have been writting as I find it helps, a little and if it's ok I'd like to share some with you. There is a question though which is this: How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?
Hope it's ok to share, I've almost posted but didn't see the point at the time. Looking back over the last 18 years, all the points of recovery and relapse, I kinda feel enough is enough. Bit heavy I know
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?
Demons descending from the depths of the darkness, like hail from winter storm clouds.
Swirling, swishing through the shapeless shadows that lurk in every corner of the night filled room.
Faces, twisted, tormented, tortured, wilfully whispering away the chance of any new dreams. Can they be of a malevolent mind when they are on the outside?
Insipid insight fading fast, just as the sun does at the onset of evening. And among it all a self once lived in.
Unnoticed were the subtle changes from suspicion to fact. Those positive points of reference now banished beyond the point of which there is no going back.
Clinging to the slippery, silky, slender threads of reality. Clutching, holding on for life and limb knowing only too well that the tenuous ties had long been withered.
Memories of motivational quotes are now nothing but footprints, left, imprinted in the devastation and destruction. Thoughts of 'It will be ok' echo endlessly in the distance as each finger releases it's fragile grip. The last hope flying loose, like an untethered kite climbing on the soaring spirit of the stormy wind.
The only option, to let go and allow the tempest to toss this festering life aside. Descent into the calm, calculating, eye of the ensuing storm, the only sure chance of respite from the invasion of this lifeless living.
The beleaguered battlements have been brought crashing to the ground. Empty and barren are the armouries that once fought this dreaded deadly foe. The only thing left is the resonating realisation that some times, from the smouldering cinders, there comes nothing but the wind blown ash of a self that once was.
How then, from all this, can a life be reclaimed?