Today I have had the pervading thought that, no matter how hard I combat a “victim-mentality” (overused term, in my opinion), there are some days when one is hard pressed not to feel like a victim. Now, I am working on not letting my feelings dictate my words and actions. But, for such a feeler as I am, to say it is a challenge is such a gross understatement that it’s almost laughable to use the word “challenge” in place of the word “impossible”.
But feeling the victim and being the victim are two different things, right? I can’t help but sometimes ask, “But, in this situation, aren’t I, in actuality (not just in perception), the victim?” It certainly appears (don’t want to use the word “feels” here) that way.
It’s one of those days.
When I have one of those days, I usually go here. It is my default place (a place of despair and honest longing for death). Occasionally, however, I go to this place instead (a place of whispered promises, lullabies and, most importantly, hope).
…this place (please, listen):
Today, which has been so very much one of those days, I have tried my hardest to turn from the road which leads to the former place to somehow walk the road to the latter one, on purpose. And that, in itself, is hope breathing. So that, when “I close my eyes against the pain”, I am closing them to “dream of better days” I am still trying my best to believe are out there for me.
And, because I know I’m not alone in this struggle (I know I’m not the only one fighting to keep hope alive), I pray that this post reaches out across the interwebz and helps others who are having one of those days, too.