A Fine Balancing Act

I have been walking along the sharp ridgeline the past few days, finely balanced with arms outstretched. I gaze at the far snow capped peaks. Every step I take, my balance fails. I lurch from one side on the left that drops into a deep dark crevasse, to the other side that falls steeply down to a gentle river far below. This slope is littered with large rocks and hidden holes. There is no easy path to that faraway river. To fall to the left is the easiest path. To simply stop and fall into the void and be carried away, to forever fall into nothingness would bring instant relief.

I need to get down to that river. I need to climb over the rocks that are in my way. I need to traverse the dark caverns that would suck me into their depths.

I need to reach that slow cool river that wanders towards the sea. The river has no idea of rocks or holes, it simply finds another path to get to its destination.

My anxiety has been crippling me the past few days. I have never thought that it could be so overpowering. It sucks the very essence out of you and leaves you empty, a dry husk. You lie there praying to god that it ends but it keeps hammering at you until you end up shaking.

I know that the path to wellness is going to be a rocky one but I’ve got my boots on. I have some hiking sticks and some rope and although I haven’t got all the equipment yet, I’ll collect it as I go.