The past, particularly the two years of horrid pain were days of struggling to stay even a day clean. The nature of the two years so condensedly dark. A black hole that sucks all the happiness and soul off one.
Perhaps under normal circumstances it is even capable of adversely affecting anyone and anything that it has worked its way to making the nature of the memories of the a certain time-frame adopt its properties. Perhaps this is why hell, as well as heaven, is beyond description.
It's as if we've been forbidden to speak of it.
It has been roughly a year staying clean, and there aren't any plans on erasing that. I wouldn't have come thus far and passing two close calls without God.
I wish I could never remember how it felt. I wish my mind and soul hadn't been chopped into firewood. Only God knows if they'd ever be one again.
Is it a complete recovery yet? The various after-effects that come in ways none can imagine will take time. Or perhaps it won't and time won't do.
Speak of things and you will seem to the rest to be talking in an outlandish language. No, everything seems outlandish. When will this truly end?
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