Yield

The Abyss, that I seem to creep into more frequently than not, is getting darker, deeper, more intense with the sound of nothing. I grow weary with each passing hour. How long has it been since I felt peace? Have I ever felt peace? My heart is heavy with the emotion of grief and yet I am powerless to feel it or show it. The guilt seems to get in the way of the sensation of living at all. I long for this life to come to an end. I long for serenity of any sort. I am tired of the prying eyes, the eyes that don’t understand where I am at or how I could have got here, the eyes that say, you are as a disease, I want no part of you. Is it just me? Am I to blame? Am I the dirt under your feet, the dirt you brush off as you head into your seemingly perfect homes? Do I frighten you? Am I a nightmare? Grief, Sorrow, and Guilt are not contagious. They are not the plague that you stay up nights worrying about infecting your family. I am not He, He that is after your soul and yet you look at me as if I were. There is no compassion in your being. No commiseration for what I must feel. Over and over in my head, I live that morning. I can’t get past the certainty that I killed him. You say it is irrational; it was an accident, that I never meant any harm to him. I loved him but I did more than harm him. He is gone because of me, because of my error, because of my ignorance in knowing that days should not be hurried but should be enjoyed. Now the enjoyment is gone. Life will never be as it was. Life is something I must tolerate now, if I can. I never sense the warmth of Him as I use to. The sadness blocks the Spirit. The exhaustion obstructs the reception of His blessings. Maybe He tires of me, as I tire of my life. I have asked for so much. Maybe I am out of offerings. Maybe it is time to yield.