The hardest part is when it hits you.
The uncontrollable, overwhelming and crushing wave of despair.
The dark pit that engulfs you and won’t let go.
What’s worse is this blackness that isolates you from everything – you’re the only one who can see it.
It taints every thought, every word, every action.
It draws round you and convinces you the only answer is to retreat further into its icy embrace.
The colder it makes you, the further you retreat, searching for a spark of warmth.
A glimmer, somewhere, of hope.
It fools you.
Until you realise that all you have left is the comfort of what’s familiar.
This abyss has become home.
And you believe it when it says there is no other way.
The darkness becomes more comforting than the light.
The light – when it comes – is fleeting, but painful in its brightness.
But He calls to you.
In the midst of it all, He draws near.
By the hand He takes you and guides you as your eyes adjust to the light.
As you remember what you once had.
And suddenly the light isn’t so painful anymore.
And He who guides you is stronger than it all.