The Pit

The Pit

This much I know. There exists a dark pit in all of us, the blackest of black places, deep enough to feel bottomless. How fortunate the few who never have to fathom its depths, but most will, at some time and without warning.

Some enter never to leave, reluctantly languishing, having lost the energy to fight back. A tragic few lose the battle and pay the ultimate price. Others continue their struggle without a murmur, their anguish and despair visible only to those closest to them.

Some may have the ability to ignore, or deny its existence, though the pit lurks within them as well. Many will try to help, assuaging the symptoms to no apparent avail; some simply provide comfort and solace, which is all anyone can really do.

Eventually, after an age (the pit has no notion of time), its hold might loosen allowing light, once again, to shine into the depths. As the longest night gives way to day, for a while it may appear the pit is no longer really there.

When it does return, as it surely does for so many, the pit is just as deep, just as black, just as indiscriminate. All anyone can really hope is to have the strength and knowledge that the experience will be but temporary, however permanent it feels at the time, and however disappointing it is, to learn that the pit will never be completely vanquished.

But, perhaps, the moments spent outside the pit will grow in time and number: happier hours, days, weeks spent without teetering on its brink or sliding, hopelessly, into its maws. Perhaps these times will extend, such that one day, the whole experience becomes no more than an unhappy memory.

It may never go away, not completely. But eventually, it might leave only a nod in wry understanding, of what it means to be human, imperfect, with baggage and with certain areas of conscious existence that can never be fully controlled, even if years pass before their deepest reaches manifest themselves once again.

12 Aug 2014