Last night, I had one of those moments.
The ones where the darkness closes in and the air becomes too think to breathe in. The ones that sap all my will to continue be a functioning human. In these moments I am less Nikki and more… Something else entirely.
These moments aren’t rare. They’re part of my life now.
I curled up on the floor of my soul-less serviced apartment and sobbed until my body hurt. I cried, trying to hide from the dark that I knew was already in my veins.
And I fought. I fought the kind of fight I hope noone else ever has to experience. I fought to WANT to live.
In that moment, I hoped and pleaded with a non-existent entity that someone would hold me and tell me that everything will be ok. That I could stop having to be strong for just a few minutes and I could collapse into a trembling heap in their arms. Knowing full welk that person would never come.
I kept fighting anyway. I fought the only way I know how: with the thought that I could not do this to Chopper. That he can’t ever think that I abandoned him… that there was ever one moment in time that I didnt intend to live up to my life long commitment to him.
So I took a sleeping pill to help switch my brain off. To help me hide from all this black that I had pushed out of my veins, but still pressed down on me, scratching at my skin.
Eventually, with great pain, I slept.
This morning, determined to not be consumed by the moment, I put on my Nikes and I ran. I know from experience that I can’t outrun the black, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.
As I turned to go down a path that is not part of my usual run, i was greeted by this:
And I knew in that instant that I made the right decision. That leaving my support system and being apart from Chopper temporarily would be worth it.
So, I just kept running; stopping often to smell the proverbial roses.
And I sat on the edge of the harbor and watched the kelp sway as fish played amongst it. I listened to the water splash by my feet while I felt the sun on my face.
I sat there for ages, taking time to meditate. I sit there still, writing – my favorite therapy.
And I know everything will be A-ok. It won’t be easy and it won’t be immediate or permanent. But it will be ok.