I feel a strangeness,
A shifting of colors,
A repurposement.

Sometimes seeing others' struggles
makes your own seem so slight.

It has been a week since my last relapse.
I never had the willpower to fight just for me.

But when you're trying to stay strong
for someone else,
things change.

In holding myself back,
I find my energy and conviction swelling,
dull colors resurfacing from the hole in my soul;
Thus giving rise to a desire to pour into others,
since I no longer feel so empty.

I see my family,
working their hardest
to keep going no matter what.

They always manage to keep laughing,
to keep loving.

I see my friend,
who shared a heart-wrenching poem
that made my chest double in weight
just from reading it.

Who, after unloading a burden
that's been with her for years,
came into class.

And her smile felt brighter,
her eyes sharper,
her laughter more free;
The tinge of melancholy
replaced with a glimmer of hope
for the dream she still holds on to.

And it inspires me to keep going,
to keep forging ahead.

Even though my goals are nebulous
and feel so far away,
I still have hope too,
that God is leading me where He wills.


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