I didn't want to post this one-page short story, but I realized it's just too good of a reflection not to share with the world. Enjoy life!!
Reflection: The Bottom of the Well
For everyone it’s different. For everyone that falls, for everyone that goes down the wrong path, for everyone that fails at their aspirations, for everyone that lets down the people they love and care about the most, the details change from story to story but the fall is always the same. Some people aren’t meant to rise. Some people are meant to fail in order for the people around them to thrive.
We’re all scared of failing. We’re all deathly afraid of never rising above or climbing out of the pit that we picked up a shovel and dug deep for ourselves. And yes, we are all solely responsible for the hole we dig ourselves into every time we hit the bottom of the page of the book that we write with our name sprawled across the perceived cover at the start of our lives. We like to think of a human’s lifetime as an entire book, but it’s all for comfort and completely inaccurate in every form of the sense. We’re all a one-page short story because that is what life is: a short story. And we all meet the points in time that we start to voluntarily dive head first into the pits of disgust and shame in the form of a decision that turns the wheel of time to end up right here. Right where everyone is scared to be: the bottom of the well.
Helpless with no hope of climbing out ourselves. That scary pit of darkness where you’re waiting for someone to come and save you, waiting for someone to pull you up or throw you the rope that will help you rise above, waiting for someone to give you a boost on a day you can’t get out of bed, or just screaming and calling out for someone that will never come. You keep screaming out until you’re met face to face with your own insanity and the painful realization that no one is there to hear you, no one is there to pick up your broken puzzle pieces, no one is there to shine a light down a dark pit and ask if you’re okay because no one is willing to pull someone else out of those pits. We’re all scared of being dragged down with them instead. Isn’t that the problem though?
Overlooking the fact that humanity is so cruel that people will walk by you on the streets and pretend you’re not walking around with your eyes full of tears. Overlooking the kindness of today’s society, you’re the only one that can save you. You’re the only one that put yourself there. There isn’t some invisible force in the world that prevents you from being happy. There is no unstoppable moving entity that sees you experience happiness only to guarantee you walk down the path towards that deep, dark well and forcibly drag you down with your demons. The demons that you refuse to face. The demons that cause you to sink your teeth into absolutely anything that makes your skin crawl with disgust just to escape. You will do anything to solidify that the blinders you hide behind stay indestructible. Anything to avoid looking them straight in the eyes. So what do you do? What’s the next step? You perfect your skills that give you the ability to hide. You hide.
You very successfully disguise yourself from them. Not one single soul knows those demons better than you. Not one. You get yourself into the habit of filtering through an array of intricate masks and elaborate outfits. We all end up throwing ourselves at the thought of being someone other than who we are. Hurling ourselves at the thought of never looking behind us to see if those monsters have caught up with us. We slam the doors shut. We latch all the windows with scotch tape and glue. And we pray nothing will ever get in. We all think we’re holding it together with our tape and glue, but the windows and doors are rattling and turning against you. They’re banging on the door and begging for you to let them in. Those demons that you won’t face. You’re the reason why they’re banging on the door, screaming at you to turn and face them, and painfully begging you to give them the relief that comes with gripping the back of your neck so tightly that you barely know how to fight back. You convince yourself that the answer is simple. You convince yourself that the answer is right in front of you: don’t fight back.