The Tsunami: To my Rescuer
Mental illness was a tsunami. It wreaked total devastation; unannounced.
There was no warning before it swallowed me up in its miry depths.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Tossed.
My soul was wrecked and ravaged by the torrential savage tsunami.
On the very shores of death, I was deposited.
Pain and brutal sight surrounded me.
Those who were not dead already saw, as I saw, Destruction staring at us; Eye to eye.
Why.
Why did I see the depths?
Why did I take my last breath only to be recesitated and regurgitated by the creature Destruction?
Images burned into the silence in my soul will forever smolder because I have seen him. He knows my name.
Tsunami. I have seen you eye to eye and yet you did not overcome me.
Tsunami. I am stronger; I am wiser; and I am more compassionate because you tried to take me to the Miry Depths.
I however, had a rescuer, a resource of which neither of us knew would intervene.
I had a Storm-Stopper.
Burned into my soul was an ability to ride water.
I have no why.
I however have sight, that was given to me in the brief moment before you thought you had stolen my last breath.
The image of miry death and the torrential savagery are now Strength in me.
The collapse, and the devastation, is part of who I am.
I am not afraid.
I wear my burden lightly.
Again.
Again,
and again. Toss my soul if it allows me to see my Rescuer; my Redeemer; my Storm-Stopper.
Tsunami.
I know your name.
I know of your limitations.
I know who you are.
You?
You know my Rescuer.
Again.
Again
and again.
