I came to this planet naked and vulnerable. I adventured in life’s battle without armor, and I was never prepared for what might be thrown in front of me. I was never able to acknowledge and understand everything that happened around me, especially in a world that changed all the time. I was living with the Darwinian principle, that only by natural selection of the ones that were adapted to the new conditions increased their chances to survive, compete and reproduce. To all the other ones, the new environment wiped out entire species because they were just different and stood out from the decor. Living in such a world, vulnerability and weakness were the most targeted. The most powerful never chose competitors, they acted like wolves, came into the darkness, were intimidating and hungry, and targeted easy prey. They never had a sense of understanding when their target was a cub or their protective mother. The only thing that followed was their thirst, their driven desire, and their hunter instincts. Those wolves couldn’t be tamed, would not change, and I could never trust them. When I walked in a forest in the daylight, captivated by the sweet nature around me, the positive vibe made me forget sometimes that I could get lost and be there when their shadows picked behind the trees. There were two worlds in the same decor, and what made a difference was only my perception and the timing. If I happened to walk in the daytime and be able to see all the obstacles, I would stay safe and careful. Unfortunately, if the roads got tangled and I got lost in the nighttime, then was a different scenario. My mind was so powerful when I could control it, but fear was the farewell that blocked that from happening. When I started being afraid, I easily lost my focus and faith, and I activated the survival mode to start fighting back. That fight was made in darkness, without a clear direction. I tried to get out and whenever I saw a shining light I tend to blindly follow. The shadows liked to play in the nighttime too, and what looked innocent could be a danger, and what seemed scary could be just a branch. However, a night was long when fear peaked into my head, and what was left was just to run and try to find an exit, hoping that every turn and every new path would lead me out of danger. I had no idea who was there watching me from the shadows and observed how I struggled to get out. But they waited patiently for me to get tangled and be easier prey, without a chance of escape. Breathless and exhausted I found myself leading to a dead end where there was no other path to take, there was no light to give me hope, and I got ambushed by thirsty and ruthless bloody fangs. Then there was a void in time when I fall hard and lost the touch with reality, left behind like a ripped carcass, the next meal for scavengers.

“I have not always chosen the safest path. I’ve made my mistakes, plenty of them. I sometimes jump too soon and fail to appreciate the consequences. But I’ve learned something important along the way: I’ve learned to heed the call of my heart. I’ve learned that the safest path is not always the best path and I’ve learned that the voice of fear is not always to be trusted.”

― Steve Goodier

There were still chances to survive even after a hard battle, where nothing was left but my breath that filled the lungs and the heart that made crucial efforts to keep me alive. Then slowly, my eyes opened and I started facing the damage left behind. I got some senses back and felt a deep pain that broke me to pieces. In that stage, the emotional collapse began, in a tumbling down of all the scary things that a human could face like neurasthenia, depression, neurosis, burnout, crackup, anxiety, and despair. The first step I took after waking up from that emotional coma put me on an emotional rollercoaster, that was filled with hope but blocked by fear. In a matter of seconds, a whole movie was rolling in front of mind eyes, like solving a Rubik’s cube at the highest speed. Those sides were turned back and forth so many times, up and down, changed patterns, and given new ones. It got completed only on one side, but the other ones were still a mess. For hours the back-and-forth movement of the events that happened before the collapse was reanalyzed, dissected, and taken apart in small pieces. When almost I lost hope, I turned it a couple more times and I solved it, and then it was clear. The light turned on and I visualized clearly what lead me to that situation, what mistakes I overlooked, and what turn of paths made me get tangled. However, that was only the realization that whatever I did, led me to destruction. It was done and over, the past could only be acknowledged, never changed. The only change I could do was the way I moved forward from that moment. I could choose the short way of addictions and continuing to make bad choices or the long road to home.

“Go back home. Take the long way just to not pass the liquor store. Don’t buy the cigarettes. Go straight home. Take off your shoes. Wash your hands. Your face. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. It’s still beating. Still fighting. Now get back to work”

― Charlotte Eriksson

Going back home was a long and painful journey. I didn’t have anything left behind me, but a long road ahead. I took the first step and was followed fast by the one behind. I was slow, but I kept on moving. I started on foot, for miles and miles until I couldn’t move a step forward, the muscles were broken, and the soles of my feet were wounded. I met different opportunities that promised me they would help me to reach my destination, but they all asked for upfront payments. I tried one last time to leave someone else to be the captain of my ship, only to realize that they took me off track, in a different direction, just to make additional profit from misleading me. Others promised me the same things but with sweeter words, or different approaches, but with the same hidden purposes. When all these people start forming a pattern, was clear that there was no way I should take it. I hoped that were still kind souls in the world that could help me. With my last hope, I knocked on someone’s door, a modest and decent place. When they opened it, I was sure I looked suspicious to them and untrusty but gave me a hand, a place to rest, and something warm for the night. The next morning, I was still in a safe place, nurtured and cared for. I shared my story with them, and from their big hearts, the light was shining bright. I felt protected there, I was helped to recover, cleaned my wounds, and the recovery process was sped up. It took me a while to be able to face the world again, to get out and to stand without support, but every day was a closer day to reaching my goal. They went back to hunt and claim what was lost and damaged, got their angels’ armor, and fought for justice. No matter how hard the battles were, they never let me down. Their words were their bond, and the promise was my hope. Fighting for me after I fought alone felt like a divine intervention with an army of spirits united to be able to win the battles I lost. While they were away fighting for me, I was praying and kept the positive vibes, in manifestation mode, with all the strength I could encounter in a lifetime. When they finally came back, I was already part of their life, creating an indestructible bond, made from love. Winners in the battle, protectors, and wise souls, they took me safely back to my home. My family who opened the door for me when I got home would never know how my journey was back from hell, but they accepted me the way I was, wounded, lost, but alive. It wasn’t a celebration, but a relief. Still weak, pale, and thinner I was grateful that I survived, and the recovery followed smoothly after that. I just kept fighting! I survived, and I will recover too.

“When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker … but as survivors. “

― Jenny Lawson

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