When things go wrong, it might help to remind myself of all that I’ve been through already.
I watched my father go through years of illness, and have hoped and prayed for his recovery – and for the strength to cope.
I watched my father die, smoothened his eyelids to close forever, and held my mother as she cried and struggled while they took him away.
I had relationships shatter around me as I realised that the person I trusted most was not true – had probably never been.
I lived alone in a strange city and spent entire weekends in my tiny apartment, doing nothing.
I was ill and had no one come to visit me.
I cried for hours at a stretch, thinking about the person I had become and the person I had wanted to be.
I got out of all that – with help, but got out all the same. I have been mostly happy and at peace for the last couple of years. I did realise then that this cannot last, that no one can be this happy for a long time, no one can want nothing.
I had gone through all that pain and fear, and survived. I will survive lesser evils. Especially as I now have the Guy to come home to at night, to hold me as my wounds heal.
Yet isn't despair stronger than courage? When you feel you have reached the bottom, there is little to fear. You fear when you have much to lose.
P.S. - I am perfectly all right, and this was written some time ago.