The Gift of Merci

Chapter 25 - Perfect

In high school, I had to delve into history with a report on the Dark Ages. Back then, I knew little about that era beyond what I researched, yet I found myself in my own 'dark days.' Those moments were the nadir of my life.

They've come back intermittently, resurfacing from time to time. Recently, I experienced another such phase.

Sometime last month, I hit a point of exhaustion. Physically and mentally drained, I felt as if the weight of the world pressed down on me. Everything demanded excessive effort, yet nothing seemed to unfold as planned. My motivation evaporated, and I teetered on the edge of giving up, questioning the point of striving when success seemed unlikely.

I became my own adversary, extinguishing the last sparks of my dreams. I couldn't help but entertain the belief that things wouldn't work out, that the hurdles would be insurmountable, and the path from where I stood to where I aimed to be stretched endlessly. Even reclining on the couch felt agonizing. Despite the brightness at home, nothing could ignite my mind or vision.

How could I once inspire and motivate others, yet find myself one day questioning the truths I used to believe? Could someone who delved deep into goal-setting and mindsets lose their way? What happened to my faith? Was my personal connection with God faltering, causing this aimlessness?

I prayed I wasn't alone. I yearned for assurance that others shared my experience. That in our lives, there's a phase akin to our own 'Dark Ages,' where motivation wanes and self-doubt reigns supreme. That despite our belief in ourselves, we'd rather heed voices saying we can't and should stop.

Fortunately, I found a way out of the darkness. I realized that despite thinking I could, I'm just an ordinary human with limited energy that depletes over time. I understood the need to recharge my batteries when they drained. Like everyone else, I don't have boundless reserves.

Before the pandemic, I had sanctuaries for recharging—church, the university campus, or the outdoors. Even after draining weeks, visiting these places revitalized me.

During the pandemic, I attended church online and joined webinars. I prayed, read, and studied. Yet, I felt an inexplicable pull towards the road I used to tread each weeknight after classes. I missed the scent of the sunken garden, the liberating feeling of standing on campus, momentarily forgetting deadlines, to-do lists, and aspirations. I craved a moment free from thoughts.

And last month, I answered that call. In the company of good friends, we sneaked onto the campus. We roamed, creating new simple memories amidst the prolonged lockdown.

Inhaling fresh air, I felt a return to normalcy. My heart pulsed, my blood flowed. I regained strength and courage, and my worries seemed to dissolve—well, at least enough for me to handle them once more.

OCTOBER 2020

Sage felt lost and alone. The once perfect and admired girl had disappeared from the spotlight, hidden behind a black mask of pain and despair. The affirmations and praises that once surrounded her seemed like distant echoes now.

"Where am I?" she cried out, her voice choked with anguish, but it felt as if her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her silence spoke volumes, but nobody seemed to notice or understand the depth of her struggles.

Inside her, a tempest raged, and the storm clouds of depression veiled the star that once glistened so brightly. Sage yearned to break free from the suffocating darkness, but it seemed like an impossible feat.

In her silence, Sage struggled to find the words to express the turmoil within. She desperately wanted someone to see past the facade of perfection and comprehend the pain she was hiding. Yet, the mask she wore was so convincing that even those closest to her failed to notice the cracks in her armor.

She longed for understanding, for someone to hold her hand and guide her back into the light. But instead, she wandered aimlessly in the shadows, her heart heavy with the weight of her unspoken emotions.

"Why can't they see?" Sage wondered, her voice a mere whisper in the void of her mind. She yearned for someone to pierce through the darkness and listen to her silent screams.

But depression is an invisible tormentor, and its grip can be relentless. It engulfs its victims in a shroud of silence, isolating them from the world, even when surrounded by people.

As the days passed, Sage withdrew further into her own mind, feeling like a mere spectator in her own life. The vibrant star she once was dimmed, hidden behind the tapestry of her inner turmoil.