Inward Battle

I wrote this--Inward Battle--4 years ago. The simple rhythmic beat of this poem made me feel as if I was beating the questions of it into my own head...looking for a way out...hoping for a way out. It took me years to find my way out. I can't say this poem has a recovery feel to it, but it is comprised of an honest understanding of what I was going through...and what many of you are going through.

Softly falling like the rain--

No one hears or sees my pain…

Will I gain, oh will I gain

As I’m losing?

*

Echoes in this hollow cave

Don’t allow me to be brave…

I’m a slave, oh I’m a slave

As I’m falling

*

In this contest with my mind

I often seek and do not find…

Could it be that I am blind

As I’m losing?

*

What a sad and lonely tale--

Never ever can I fail…

But it is all to no avail

As I’m falling

*

I tell myself I will not cry,

Ask and ask why, why, why…

So many must be stronger than I

As I’m losing

*

Strange for those who do not know--

I try hard not to let it show…

But sometimes days, they are slow

As I’m falling

*

Must be pretty, must be smart--

Must look like a work of art…

You cannot stop once you start

As I’m losing

*

I am empty like a bowl;

It is hard to feel whole…

And it is all about control

As I’m falling

*

I know that bowl must be filled--

And eaten, yes, never spilled…

I must try; I must build

As I’m losing

*

Tell me how I got this way--

Counting, nervous every day…

I don’t know, but I can pray

As I’m falling

*

(c) Arielle Lee Becker 2003

I'm happy to say my praying and hoping was NOT to no avail. I hit a low low before I came to realize a lot of things about myself and my problems. The reason I'm posting this poem is so that you know you are not alone. It hurts...and makes you feel crazy...and makes you want to scream...and makes you sick...and makes you cry...but eventually, given healing and time and the right amount of self-love and honesty and strength, there is a way out.

Because...

The girl who once wrote this poem was in a deep dark hole...and no one could throw her a ladder or a rope, because she was too weak to climb. And no one could give her their hand, because they weren't strong enough...and because she really wasn't ready to get out.

But others threw their good thoughts down to her. They threw her their love and their hopes for her future. They threw her their worry and their concern. They threw her food. These things made her stronger, but still she was alone in that hole with no way out.

She cried in that hole and starved in that hole. She slept in that hole. She LIVED in that hole. She was a miserable wreck for a long, long time.

So, finally desperate to live in the light instead of the dark...finally ready to live above and outside that deep hole...finally able to see what she could do...she used her tools...the only ones she always had and always has--her mind, her emotions, and her own two hands--and with her heart she wanted OUT. And with her determination she made a plan. And with her anger, she beat at the walls of the hole to make grooves and shelves and footholds. And with her strength, she climbed up...up...up.

It was always up to her. Even with the help of others, she still needed to use her tools to get out of that hole. She needed not one or a few of her tools, but all of them. She needed her desperation, her readiness, her realization, her determination, her anger, and her strength.

After all, the hole was very deep. It took her several tries to actually get out without falling back in. But get out she did. And now--she spends her life living in the light and making sure she never falls back in that hole.

Much love to you all,

Arielle