All have breaking points. That point in time where we are stretched so thin, so tight, so tense that the very concept of breathing has become a new phenomenon. We keep on functioning in a state of utter exhaustion and chaos that it becomes normal and what is really normal is simply a vague memory. We pick up our feet and keep moving forward, and when I say pick up our feet, I mean wearily trudge through life praying "God let there be an end, because if this continues in the after life, I rather skip the after life all together and just be allowed to sleep."
Yet, in the midst of all that subconscious chatter we convince ourselves we're ok. Our worlds are crashing in a cacophony of unrest, but as long as I have (insert pitiful rationalization) under control, I'm fine. We hold on tightly, suffocating the life of that one think of sustaining us. The thing letting us know it's ok. Like a small child gripping a teddy bear, choking the neck until the seam has frayed, the stuffing fallen out, and even that one dash of hope has been made a mess. We cling to meaningless things, a coping mechanism that when ashes hit ashes and dust hits dust can only lead to ruin.
A chaotic type-a misery seeing her world fall apart in hysteria, "but at least I've got my body." Ten pound gain hits the scales. Life unravels. Hopelessness invades. Prevails. Conquered. Defeated.
Only at our breaking point do we come to the realization of how futile are the things we put our hope in. Letting tears run down our cheeks, releasing the squeched ability to feel and recognizing what we' ve put our trust in. Grieving the loss of something naturally good, we are forced into surrender and discover the inner cravings of our soul, neglected, starving, and pushed to the side for something that can never fulfill.
At our breaking point we recognize the true hopelessness of ourselves and a hope in a salvation that comes from something greater. So as we release we no longer have to cling, because we are embraced and empowered to rise again. Overcome the obstacles and take back our lives. Out of the wreckage we draw pearls of wisdom and a strength we did not know we possessed.
Indeed, breaking points are beautiful things if we let them be.
Yet, in the midst of all that subconscious chatter we convince ourselves we're ok. Our worlds are crashing in a cacophony of unrest, but as long as I have (insert pitiful rationalization) under control, I'm fine. We hold on tightly, suffocating the life of that one think of sustaining us. The thing letting us know it's ok. Like a small child gripping a teddy bear, choking the neck until the seam has frayed, the stuffing fallen out, and even that one dash of hope has been made a mess. We cling to meaningless things, a coping mechanism that when ashes hit ashes and dust hits dust can only lead to ruin.
A chaotic type-a misery seeing her world fall apart in hysteria, "but at least I've got my body." Ten pound gain hits the scales. Life unravels. Hopelessness invades. Prevails. Conquered. Defeated.
Only at our breaking point do we come to the realization of how futile are the things we put our hope in. Letting tears run down our cheeks, releasing the squeched ability to feel and recognizing what we' ve put our trust in. Grieving the loss of something naturally good, we are forced into surrender and discover the inner cravings of our soul, neglected, starving, and pushed to the side for something that can never fulfill.
At our breaking point we recognize the true hopelessness of ourselves and a hope in a salvation that comes from something greater. So as we release we no longer have to cling, because we are embraced and empowered to rise again. Overcome the obstacles and take back our lives. Out of the wreckage we draw pearls of wisdom and a strength we did not know we possessed.
Indeed, breaking points are beautiful things if we let them be.
Lovely post & reminder. :)
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