The Lake (and what you find in its depths)

So this is what you do, you dive into these horrific emotions that you have avoided (with reason) for years, then you surface again, take a breath, go on with your day, live your life with the afterimage of these memories clouding your vision. You try to find the balance that will let you find everything, but not drown. You avoid anxiety by making the trips frequent enough that you eventually lose your fear of those depths, if not of what is actually down there to find.

You dive and surface until you have pulled every last mud covered gem from the bottom of this lake. Later you will take your sack of mud and sift through it, pull out the gems, and one by one; you will polish them to a shine and then cut them into jewels and eventually you will find the strength and desire to wear them with pride, more beautiful than scars, but no less useful, or hard won.

But this week? This week you are dirty and wet and tired and cold and you stink; but you are doing what needs to be done. So while you rest on the banks, let yourself smile, just a little, at the warmth of the sun on your face.