Till my last breath

Somes in trauma a memory becomes burned into the psyche; a smell, sound or taste brings back memories of betryal, heartbreak, deep sadness and guilt. We seek escape and release in new memories, in fantasy, in denial or by shutting ourselves off completely from the world.

I have my entire life been master of fantasy. I have dwelled in the richness of my imagination from the unfairness and cruelty of my early life. I learned as I grew older to shape it and use it for performance and writing. Even some of my hobbies dwell within the realms of fantasy: books, games and anime. But never have been slave to it.

It is for this same reason I refuse to drink to excess, I fear the loss of control.
I have seen what the loss of control does to a person, what addiction does to the mind. How the soul dies in stagnation when it is not fed. I could've ran into the world of fantasy and been a slave. This path is different but perhaps the reward greater.

It is an eerie feeling as I realize that I am trapped. The contridictions themselves appear almost absurd. I want to undo damage from a time I was behaving irrationally from illness, but I am afraid to speak to those people: moreover they won't speak to me.
I want to be forgiven for actions I have been assured I did not commit, yet I remember them as if they occured yesterday and the guilt is not less because of the circumstances.

Worst of all is the realization that the trap is complete; I am unwilling to escape. Perhaps in that regard it is better to refer to it as a cage. Although the cage has no freedom and is generally unplesant it's not all that dangerous. I fear the ruthlessness and cruelty I was capable of... it isn't something I can understand or comprehend. I guess all I can call it is primal... like it belongs to a darker animal part of my psyche.

I think honestly I would choose death before letting that happen again. Many would call that a cowards way out... but I don't think I have it in me for another round of that.
But my fear is not just for others, but also my own mortal soul. At times it felt as if I stood on the line between eternal damnation and an escape to forgiveness. I felt if I held on alittle while longer I would be redeemed somehow.

The fire in my soul burns to embers but has not died. I overcame death, depression and sickness and I refuse to be trapped by my own fear and hesitance now. Someday my children will face their own trials; they will ask me "what should I do?" and I don't want to be a hypocrite when I tell them that fear should not stop them. I'll say to them "don't let anything stop you, not while you still draw breath." and I won't be a hypocrite when I say it.

So thats my new motto. I'm going to keep saying it till It sticks. I need to remember that while I live I can change and the future changes with me: So until I stop breathing nothing will stop me.