In Perhaps the Biggest Act of Self-Sabotage, I Said Nothing
7 years of a progressively encroaching hell
And I came home. And I said nothing.
And the darkness grew.
And the darkness took over.
And nights were sleepless.
And days burned hot with internal rage.
And I almost.
Sometimes.
Got close.
To saying it.
But instead . . . nothing.
And one day I called.
For help.
After years of hoping, praying, begging for someone to call me. Never once thinking I could just call, could just reach out.
And so I called.
This was the first time I’d seriously asked for any kind of help in dealing with . . . the darkness.
And still. I said nothing. Not to those closest to me.