WHO AM I?
I danced on the moon
I flew through the stars
I painted the skies
With my tears and my laughter
I sculpted my life without care
Taking no thought
For the promise it held
More and more often
My skies became stained
With deepening gloom and despair.
I feel so alone!
On the outside I laugh
On the inside I moan
As darkness takes over
My carefully-crafted facade
Becomes lost in the shadows
Of deepening gloom and despair.
I want to dance
I want to fly
I want to feel free
I want to deliver
My soul, my sacred self
From deepening gloom and despair.
I want to find me!
...sfstevens
1998





REFLECTIONS ON WHO AM I?
This was written some eleven years ago, when I was losing my battle with depression. Everything was overwhelming to me. Anything I tried seemed to be insurmountable. Even the simplest, most familiar occurrences could send me into a spiral. I prayed a lot for help and strength, but at times it looked as tho’ no one was listening. I cried and yelled at the anonymous ‘whoever’ that seemed to be conspiring against me.
I flung myself repeatedly against the same old obstacles and, surprise! they were as immovable as ever. There was no hope, I thought. I had wasted so much of my life, prospects of regaining control (if I had ever had it!) appeared impossible. I threw tantrums. I made unwise decisions, but I didn’t care. If God didn’t, and it looked like He didn’t, why should I?
I put up a good facade - I laughed and talked and continued to act as tho’ nothing whatever was wrong. On the inside I wanted nothing more than to be ME - whoever that was! I wanted to feel free to live out my purpose. The problem? I still had no idea what my purpose was!
Not to be completely overcome, I continued to rant and rave at the ‘powers that be’ and in between times, I tried to pray. Prayer won more often than not , but I still could see no end to this dilemma. Who was I, exactly? I didn’t know then, and still don’t today. I do have a clearer picture tho’. So that means there’s hope!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *