top of page
Search

The Road to Redemption

Updated: Mar 3, 2020


A tired, pale and worry-filled man sits in a grey-walled and dimly lit office. Around him, a steady stream of distant, muffled voices. The man hears all but listens to none, 'cept the choice words and names that serve only to drag him further into his spiraling, black hole. The second-hand rumors and pain-inducing stories have become a sad joke at his own expense. A reminder of the perpetual gut punch that he now carries. His body trembles and his eyesight narrows as he drops his weary head into his shaky hands. Another day of lost living.


Alone he sits, door closed, computer idle. Half-written emails mock him with indecisive pokes. He wants help but can't bring himself to hit "send." Who could possibly know pain like this? Like a polluted river, his mind is empty but roaringly loud. Questions with no answers, memories with faulty meanings. His life has become a lie, his brain, an enemy.


He puts on his headphones to distract himself from the ghosts that dance on his grave. Ghosts who stand so close, but forever remain out of reach. The music plays, but no melody will drown out the throat-scraping inner screams of his unwanted existence. He’s reached his end.


The man's anxiety blankets him with the comfort of a barbwire straight jacket. He carries his depression like a rotted half-corpse of a dead, conjoined twin. As he shakingly stands, with the weight of his old world crushing him in torture, he leaves that prison cell to be alone once more. Walking towards the door, he confronts his coworkers and wears a fake smile like he wears a rain jacket; to protect himself from his unforgiving environment.


On the long drive home, dark thoughts merge with dark roads and consume him like maggots in a dead bird. Memories of better times kick, stab and spit in his face. They laugh and taunt. Laugh and taunt. Worthlessness and stupidity are tarred and feathered to his body. The barrage of self-inflicted insults bury him and wait for his final breath. As he gives in to his own evils, the weary man feels his foot become heavy on the accelerator, his tunnel vision worsens. The roadside trees rush by in a blur. His calloused hands burn from gripping the steering wheel, his fingertips well with lifeless blood. He scans his surroundings for an escape, a permanent reprieve. A lake. No burial, no ceremony, no explanation. Just one violent splash, and ripples that fade on the nearest shores where he once valued life.


“Do it. Just get it over with,” his demons yell.


“Through the barrier, over the cliff, and into the frigid, black waters. It’ll all be over soon.”


He feels his weight start to lean; the wheels slowly turn. The vehicle drifts, edging closer to a watery surrender. His life is no flash before his eyes. Just a spark, like a lighter empty of fuel. What will he leave behind? Who will suffer when he’s dead? The sidewalls of his tires scrape against the concrete abutment. His vision widens. He stops short.


This exhausted man felt he had nothing left to live for, but that one spark lit a fire. By choosing to carry his pain for another day, he knew it would only be his pain. He would not hand it over to his loved ones to helplessly drag in their remaining days, after he was gone. He chose to fight, not just for himself, but also for them. One day, his strength will reflect and shine from their bodies as he helps carry them. Just like their spark carried him, past these dark roads .


**If you've found some benefit in this post, or any of my posts, please hit the "Like" button. If you know somebody who might benefit from these posts, hit the "Share" button to help spread the word about mental health. Or, subscribe to get all upcoming posts. For added content, follow 5 Years in Purgatory on social media.

Instagram: @fiveyip


40 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Moved to Medium

Just a quick note: A few months ago I decided to move all of my content to Medium.com to try to spread my advocation for mental health and to try to monetize my writing. If you’d like to check out my

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page