
Ahh, it's been quite a while since I've spoken to... well, myself, in a sense. Where to begin. What prompted me to delve once more into the strange inner workings of my mind was this passage from the book "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte:
"'Be not far from me, for trouble is near, there is none to help.' It was near, and as I lifted no petition to Heaven to avert it- as I had neither joined my hands, nor bent my knees, nor moved my lips- it came, in full heavy swing the torrent poured over me. The whole consciousness of my life lorn, my love lost, my hope quenched, my faith death-struck, swayed full and mighty above me in a sullen mass. The bitter hour cannot be described, in truth, 'the waters came into my soul, I sank in deep mire, I felt no standing, I came into deep waters, the floods overflowed me.'"
These words struck a chord deep within my lost soul. I feel like I'm drowning. I've been living the same way my entire adolescent life, and now on the verge of becoming a woman, and no lasting change in my somber disposition. I feel like I need to stand with outstretched arms and cry to the heavens for help. I realized that the deep despair that has my chest tied up in a knot so unbreakable has caused an unexplained anger to consume my life. Unless I decide to let go of my grandfather's death, I will never overcome this deep set anger, and hence never become better. But how do you let go? I can't possibly decide to let him abandon me completely. I'll be left in the dark. Alone. Or even worse, with myself.
I'm not happy.
I've lost faith.
I want to abandon my life.
No one needs to save me, I don't want to be saved.



