Three days into partial hospitalization and its the weekend, a couple days break then back into the gauntlet.
I learned something today, I knew it all along but it was on full display and revealed before the cold, fluorescent light of a group therapy session. I am a man overcome with shame.
A lifetime of mistakes and outright wrongdoing has left me broken and shattered at the base of the cliff of life. On my way to its sudden stop I bounced off a few rocks, bloodied and bruised I arrived in the shape that was expected.
I lie here before you, my death stare looking far into the sky, my twisted body contorted into an impossible position; as only the dead can imitate.
But wait, is that a twitch I see? a finger moving ever so slightly? There is still life, but it is barely able to be called such for this figure of a man is nearly unrecognizable.
I see through one eye, a bloody stream pouring from my head. I hurt so bad my body is a mixture of numbness and searing agony. I can barely see the sun, but I can. That gives me a little hope between wishing I was dead and having a miraculous recovery.
Everything is in the balance now.