Warrior

I’m an emotional wreck lately. Talk about flood gates and thunderstorms. I was (am) inconsolable. I don’t get to choose a place. Office Bathroom. Reception area. Kitchen. Metro Station. Pedestrian. Elevator. Downpour keeps coming. I was out of control. My eyes swollen and my t-shirt drenched. Perhaps it’s monsoon season?

I couldn’t get the boulder off my chest. I was palpitating like black coffee overload. But I know it wasn’t caffeine. It’s a tug of war. Teams of equal strength pulling on both ends of my rope. I want it to stop.

Ironically my anxiety trigger is also my paternal pacifier. I don’t really know how to go about that. The only apparatus I have in hand to attack my ruthless misery is Prayer. So I did just that the other night. Having a mother that has a faith the size of the whale that swallowed Jonah, I slowly began to slack in my relationship with God. I had full confidence since I was a child that I have a gladiator to combat an army of demons. So I never feared that much about unresolved problems. I know they will come to end. But I lost my gladiator. I’m on my own now. I never thought it would be so difficult to be your own swordsman. The wars are inside out. And sometimes they have an army so strong and so many, it looks so impossible to be defeated.

I validate my decisions through my mother. Do I fight this war or do I surrender? Is it time to retreat now? Is it time to go home? It’s utterly unbearable to even think that I have to be on front line now for defense. No one to shield me now from an arrow or a blade. I don’t have much of a choice now but to get wounded and heal. I need to learn how to be in the arena without sobbing like a seven year old girl who missed her school bus. I need to be strong for me. Because it’s the only way I can be strong for others.

Luckily though, (or blessedly) I have secret warriors that transports a parcel of weapon through prayers, stories and music. I have friends who try as much as they can to only speak kindness without any hint of judgement to anyone involved. I want things neutral. No villains. No superheroes. Just wounded soldiers trying to find healing. Cease Fire. No blaming game.

I braved the night again despite the rubble in my rib cage. I managed to cook a fine meal and prepare the dinner table. I took a hot shower and by grace of God, I felt being lulled softly to sleep.

I’d like to think that maybe, somehow, I have an invisible warrior fighting for my peace.

Photo Credit: landofmerlin.tk

Maybe

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