An Emotional Aid

There's no denying it, I've been going through some of the darkest times of my life. This year has been one crushing blow to ego and spirit alike after another. It has been both humbling and immensely disappointing. It has been both horrible and beautiful albeit in a dark way. This is the year that, when people one day are asking me what year I wish I could have skipped over, will be my selection. This is the year where I contemplated the purpose of life, and living, and have woken up many mornings thinking, as pain pulses through my being, that not existing might be better than this. I have questioned God; I have raged at Him, hated Him, loved Him, thanked Him, damned Him. I have asked myself as these slow and unbearably painful days scream by: If things are like this, is life worth living?

It is. In spite of everything, I see hope. I see a light at the end of this tunnel, faint though it may be. I work every single minute of every day to better myself, to grow stronger, to embrace humor, to smile, to bring myself back to the light, bright, amusing and optimistic man I once was. But better. I'm not there now. Not even close. But only time can heal. I have found the positive things to embrace: my friendships, now, in these dark days, more important than they have ever been; my coworkers, all of whom I love to death for making the days at the office that much more bearable; writing; my parents who have done more for me than I can even say, and who I know are worried for me, shadow of my former self that I am; hope and love; the gym; new experiences; life, in and of itself.

And music like this:

This stunning work of art has brought life back into me. It has encouraged me to keep writing in times where I thought I had lost the will to even perform this task that I so adore. This particular piece, gorgeous and sad, yet hopeful, is the reason I keep going. Such things as music exist for a reason: they are intended to speak to the soul, to uplift and to heal. The arts in general are exactly that - expressions of the soul.

Everything bad that has happened to me, has happened for a reason. Maybe I am being punished, or maybe it is the opposite of that - maybe I'm being given a gift. A chance to become more than what I have ever been. The gift of life. Perhaps this is a rebirth for me. I have to believe that. I have to hope.

I cannot not hope. Such a sad existence is beyond me.