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She’d always assumed that religion was something you did in polite company, not in private. Surely nobody actually believed any of the stuff they agreed to on Sundays.
When I wake up in the morning, I hurt all over. It’s like I have the flu, but without the fever and puking. Just an overwhelming ache, and sorrow at surviving another night. I know what you’re thinking: Eunice, we’ve known about your depression for years now. That’s why it’s important that you take your medication. The problem is that the medication doesn’t work anymore. I take it every day and still I hurt. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see my own face. I see a slowly disintegrating thing with dark circles under bleary, unfocused eyes and cracked lips that bleed when they try to smile.
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He feels numb and unlike himself and doesn’t understand why. He was saved. Why wasn’t his salvation enough? Why is he so disappointed whenever he turns a corner and finds himself exactly where he’s supposed to be?
life makes monsters of everyone, but it’s always possible to come back. Pain and death are real, but so are love, and family, and forgiveness.
