They say there is hope | Teen Ink

They say there is hope

March 8, 2012
By reneeannxyz PLATINUM, Bloomington, Illinois
reneeannxyz PLATINUM, Bloomington, Illinois
40 articles 0 photos 5 comments

but sometimes, the darkness makes it seem near impossible. How can there be hope when the entire world is crashing down, and our feet barely touch the ground anymore? Saying it isn’t enough, and sometimes, believing it isn’t either.
I know things get tough. I know that even when it feels like there’s no place to go—when your feet are so far planted that you can feel your bones cracking from the pressure of the sky—sometimes it feels like there’s no escape. And when the weight of the world piles on top of it all, you just want to scream until your lungs give out and you break, a thousand pieces shattering across the sky.
There is darkness. There is pain and there is emptiness, a constant yearning for something better, or the brute realization of disappointment. It exists—it’s all around us. Our hearts are constantly burdened by the nonsense of every day life, and we’re expected to let it bounce off our shoulders and continue on.
It’s not easy. It’s painful, and wretched, and there will be days when it becomes too much—when it all piles up again in your mind and your heart, plaguing at your spirits.
But there is hope.
I was once asked, “Why do you care?”
I’m not the type of person who sugar coats things. I’ve felt pain—I’ve battled fear and darkness, hallow emptiness that pulls me under the sheets at night with a blade and a fiery friend. I’ve given in to the darkness-the shattered spirits that prey on our weaknesses, our uncertainties.
I was giving up. I gave up—gave in to the temptation of blissful apathy. It was easy—all too easy. But at the end of the journey, I found a light. They listened. They understood. They knew that I needed something—anything. They told me I wasn’t alone, and that it was okay to feel such heavy darkness.
They told me there was hope.
There are days when I want to give up. Days when it becomes too much to bare—flashbacks and memories of the past, angry hands and broken bodies. It becomes easy to fall back to that time, that place.
But I’m my own reminder. A constant reminder of what has been, of where I can go. I tell myself there is more out there, and they tell me there is more to my story. They show me that I am not alone, and that there is always more
Even when we’re at our rock bottom, the lowest of the low—there is one thing certain, keeping us rooted in reality.
It is hope.

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