When life has you by the balls, pulling you to your knees.
When love has shattered your heart into a trillion unfixable pieces.
When the sky’s are dark and the days are as black as the moonless nights.
When all hope has wilted and there just isn’t an end in sight.
When life no longer holds a meaning and you’ve no energy left to fight.
Then your eyes have no sparkle and you soul is torn apart.
Look deep within your heart and see that somewhere, someone is out there ready to help you fight, comfort you, listen and remind you that it will be alright.
I’ve been here and somehow I survived, I really don’t know how but I did.
You can to.

I found the below article by the very talent Meggie Royer, over a month ago and have had it open on my iPad ever since.
It touched my soul in many different ways.
And even though it’s sad, it’s also beautiful in its own right, (Maggie is one talented writer) so much so I have to share it and hope that it can give a little peace to someone who is struggling, someone who is surrounded by darkness and is lost without the light, someone who is lonely, someone who is drowning in heartache.
I know it’s the hardest thing on earth to lift yourself out of the black hole you have fallen in, the climb will be extremely difficult, but with every step forward the darkness gains different shades of black to grey and the light will slowly but surely filter through.
You can make it out and in time you will want to, you will want to see the beauty of the morning frost, the sunlight dancing on the walls, the roar of the ocean, the dew on the spring grasses, who have also been fighting their own battles to see the warming glow of the sun, to come alive once more.
Life is so delightful in so many ways, you just have to re-train your mind to focus on the beauty instead of the pain. It will NOT be easy, I’m certain of that because I’m still claiming to find not just the light, but to find myself once again and even though I will be different, I will be stronger also and I will be able to see the magic of the light again…….

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.
I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass.

I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two-year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few day lilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her, her daily medication.
The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.
The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping-stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

By Meggie Royer.
http://persephonesdaughters.tk