Tied up and twisted, in chains and turmoil. “My life not my own” echoes through the corridors and walls.
I am trapped and imprisoned, persecuted for the state of my mind. Punishment is given at each sign of weakness, each set back displayed causes a regressive rewind.
Restrictions and limitations, stepping forward and leaping back. When will I got hold of this disease, when will I get my life back on track? Time is a healer, though too much of it on hand is a killer, I find!
I know this state of being is temporary; death such permanency. I must keep holding on, hanging on by the grit of my teeth. I have a loving family and amazing friends that cheer for me ceaselessly.
God is my comfort, my rock and my pillar. I will keep praying at the alter until I am delivered. I pray, set me free from the torrents and waves of destructive, set me free, bring me out, to the great wide open.