We rarely, if ever, open up and share our darkest hour.
Perhaps we shouldn't.
There's part of us that needs a space to be and nothing else.
But, too much of the language I now see is written in mellifluous prose.
Sorry, life's not like that.
Sometimes it's real fuc*ing dark, really painful and we need to escape the torpor of our souls.
I've been there. I've not spoken about suicide but too often my judgment has been clouded to the point where I think the best escape is not to be here. Thankfully, and for reasons I don't know why, I come through my darkest hour, and I'm here to tell the tale. Lucky me, eh.
Some peope (and families) aren't so lucky.
I don't know what I'm trying to say other than that life is every bit of us and not just the things we think people want to hear.
Much love, Ju.