Hanging On

He conquers who endures.  ~Persius

How is it possible to keep holding on to something that has begun to cut like a razor knife in a bare palm?  Does the blade become a feather again?  Can the sandpaper transform itself into satin silk once more or is that change one-way only?  

I realized this morning that I haven't laughed, truly laughed, in a very long time.  That's not a way to go through life, I think.  And yet, what is there to do about it?  This is one of the darkest personal times I can remember going through, and I'm confused.  Every time I think I've reached the bottom, the lowest level, somehow that bottom drops out again and I fall.  Every time I think it's safe to hope and I allow my heart to unfold tendrils toward the light, I find that the environment is hostile, too hot or too cold, and those tender shoots are burned or frost-bitten and die.  How long is it going to be before I just stop hoping at all?  I don't want to be the person who doesn't hope.

I feel like I'm becoming someone...other...and I'm not comfortable with this.  I feel like a shell of who I used to be.  How do I overcome?  How to I persevere when it feels like little spoonfuls of my soul are being dipped out day-by-day by careless hands?  Who am I going to be when it's all done?


The quote I have put at the top of this post is all about hanging on.  The question facing me now is how to do that when doing that is full of pain.  I need to know how to do it when doing it feels counter to every instinct I have. I need to know how to do it when doing it makes me want to cry.  If endurance leads to conquest, I need to know how to endure. If somebody can show me that, maybe there will be some sort of worthiness at the end of this for me at the end after all.