“If you look for the light, you can often find it. But if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see.”

I’ve struggled with darkness for a very long time.

Inner darkness isn’t an easily remedied illness, no matter which SSRI/SNRI you take, how many therapy sessions you spend lying to yourself.

Darkness is innate; it is within. We share constant similarities with the observable universe, including the negative black expanse of loneliness. Colossal, hopeless and forever expanding.

We are no different to all things we observe. The all-consuming rays of the burning sun, getting hotter with each passing year – a funny analogy about the human race’s heightened state of mental awareness, growing and evolving with sharp solar sparks. The steadiness of our moon, forever and constant – a reminder that we must remain in our place.

Where there is light, its natural contrast will always remain with it. Hiding, dormant. Or rather, for those less fortunate, it is consuming, like a void. Inescapable drowning, treading water feels almost futile. They may say to stay above the water, keep breathing, and you may be able to save yourself.

In my experience, I believe sinking under the water may be the best course of action.

Hear me out.

Under the ocean, there is darkness that the light simply cannot fathom to touch. A deeper ecosystem, a foreign land.

If you let yourself slip down to your lowest instincts, as we all do at times, I implore you to open your eyes.

Oh yes, the saltwater will sting your eyes.

The pressure will press against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

But if what is above water isn’t helping you, perhaps it’s time to embrace your darkness, your loneliness, and your unique woe.

Below us all, there is pain.

It is a cold winter.

There is sadness.

Pain will unite us all, if we allow it to.