“Uncertainty always creates doubt, and doubt creates fear.” – Oscar Munoz
[Trigger Warning: This entry touches on the topic of suicide.]
If someone were to look at my life, they might question why I suddenly have so much doubt now. I have seen my fair share of hell, and then some. Through it all, I’ve seen the power that the Christian God has. He has worked many miracles in my life and I was happy to follow Him and serve Him. I was his faithful warrior. He was always there for me when I needed Him.
Until He wasn’t.
How is one to continue when the foundation on which one stands suddenly disappears? When all falls silent and there is no longer any answer or comfort, how is one to keep fighting? When the light suddenly goes dark and never returns, how is one supposed to keep the faith? God went dark on me. Abandoned me when I needed Him most. My wife was very sick and I was struggling to keep my family afloat. I was forced to watch my wife suffer day after day, hour after hour, minute by minute for over two years. No matter how often or how loudly I pleaded, there was no answer. No sign of a plan. No comfort in the darkness. I was truly alone, and I was forced to press on alone.
My trust in God has shattered into a fine dust. My trust in anything divine has been completely destroyed. I even tried reaching out to other gods and goddesses, hoping someone – anyone – would listen to me, would give me the strength to keep going, or even just a mote of comfort. I received nothing.
A year ago this week, I very nearly tried to end my life. Sitting in my closet at work, I questioned if anyone would even care if I still existed. I couldn’t keep going, not without support. I had exhausted all options, and things were just getting worse. I wanted the pain to end. I thought about going to a higher floor where I knew there was easy access to a balcony. I was moments away from going up there to take an “extended lunch”…and was stopped by a phone call from my wife. She could tell something was wrong and she was able to talk me down.
I knew, then, that I needed help. That I was beyond my own capabilities now. Ultimately, I did get help. I took time off work, went to daily therapy, and spent weeks trying to pull my broken pieces back together. To this day, I still struggle to keep the pieces together. I find it difficult to sleep. I cannot bear silence. I try to maintain a strong appearance for my family, but it’s just a facade. The truth is, I am still utterly destroyed inside, and healing is going to take a long time.
Now, God is trying to talk to me again. But now I don’t know if I want to hear Him. The faithful warrior in me wants to run back to Him and give Him full control again. But the wounded side of me resists. How can I go back to the one who abandoned me and put me in this situation in the first place? How can I trust Him anymore? Deep down, I know He must have always been there. Perhaps one day I will look back and say “Oh, that’s what you were doing. I understand now.” But today is not that day. I doubt Him now, and I can’t help but be afraid of what either decision – to trust or not to trust – means for me.
If I have learned anything from my battles, it is that I have a personal strength and fortitude like no other. I know I can be strong when called for. I know I can continue the fight. I know I can do it alone. It just gets harder and harder with each battle.
I am a weary warrior. Weary from fighting the darkness alone. Weary from enduring the pain and suffering. Weary and broken from Life’s constant beatings, a fruitless search for meaning, endless struggle and doubt. I am so weary from it all, and I need a rest.
I know you are too. Should you ever need a sanctuary, you can come here. I can offer nothing but a quiet space and a listening ear. Here you are safe. Here you are heard. Our stories are not over, and that means there are still many battles ahead. But we are warriors, we will continue to fight, and we will help each other through.
You are strong.
You are loved.
You are seen.
You are not alone.
The Weary Warrior 