Here’s the analogy:
Yet I’ve stopped climbing. I’ve reached a floor, maybe the fourth. Maybe the forty-fifth. It doesn’t matter so much the number. But I can’t locate the staircase. I’m wandering around, lost, scattered, afraid, and somewhat crazed trying to find the stairway again.
So, in many ways, I’m stuck.
After spending much time searching for the staircase, I’ve become exhausted.
Exhaustion can make a person high strung. Exhaustion can frazzle the nerves. Once a person’s nerves are frazzled, well……the person might do things out of character. I find myself going against my own best judgement and doing reactionary, ridiculous things.
I hope so much that I locate the staircase again. That I can continue climbing. Hoping I’ll have enough hope to keep searching. I’ve gotten to the point where little else matters but finding those stairs.
Darkness makes it hard to see. And it’s the season when it’s dark. Seeing the sun is rare. It’s cloudy, rainy, sometimes snowy, and these conditions block my vision. It’s a season of cold. And when it’s cold I want to get warm. I want to settle in, escape the cold, instead of exposing myself and pressing on.
I feel like there are people on the stairs, yelling at me. Some are suggesting ways to find the stairs again. I can hear footsteps, people continuing to climb. They don’t stop at the floor I’m stuck on. No one does. I’m here alone.
I truly believe I’ll find the staircase again. I’ll get off this floor. For good. I’ll begin the climb upwards again. And I won’t come back down to this level. I’m just not sure when or exactly how.