It looks like any other path. It is deceiving that way, that danger that for whatever reason isn't so obvious to you, it being quite sneaky and tricky while you are thinking that things are going just fine. Before you know it, you're knee deep in it, and it is pulling you under, threatening to devour you in its breath-******* muck and mire. The more you struggle, the deeper you go-- until it has all of you.

That could describe a lot of things, but to me it is the depression and, sometimes, anxiety that I wrestled with my whole life. It was never an everyday thing-- not always the most ominous feeling--and that is why I haven't always been wary of the warning signs. I was quick to want to forget about it, thinking that if I didn't continually address the matter that it would be gone forever. In other words, I wanted to return to the old and familiar, the patterns in which  life seemed easier than dealing with the matter. What felt like normalcy never required anything differently from me.

Ideally, when we are sinking, we would want there to be someone there that would be on solid ground to save us from that deadly patch of quicksand--that tsunami of terrible dread--but often the isolation becomes an only friend, a cold companion. Fear takes over, and it is just as gripping as the loss of our sure footing. Some people just don't understand, or surely think that we should have saved ourselves from this mess in the first place. And, no doubt, there is self-responsibility to counteract the lack of good chemicals in our brains, or deal with the unpleasant circumstances in our lives, but often it starts with us reaching out our hand to accept the hand that lends itself out.  It is that leap of faith to accepting outside help that becomes our first step--one of many steps we need to take in our journey.

And concerning faith, when there isn't a physical hand or tangible grip to grab onto, I know God is  always there. In my lowest of times, I have remembered the teaching that God never leaves nor forsakes us. Even when feeling unlovable, this becomes my lifeline.  So soon-- or eventually-- I come to realize that I can be brought back on dry, level ground, back freely onto my feet, unhampered and untangled from the muddy web I was stuck in. And God remains faithful--whenever I lose good direction--and the way seems so utterly, hopelessly lost. He always has. For no matter what, when I turn to God I know I can always reach out and my hand will not be slapped away.

Gratefully, I will do my best to do the same for someone else.