Pressing ever so hard against this diminishing hope of gaining acceptance and approval, I convinced myself that this purpose was unattainable and my hopes and dreams shatter in the many tears I cry! I arrived at the point in my life where this emptiness and brokenness actually becomes my symbolic birthright represented by my broken leg. I would struggle to fully walk in this life. It’s no wonder I developed an unquenchable appetite for applause, wealth, and power from any source in an attempt to compensate for the loss, to fill this void.
With my broken leg, I would limp through life.
This blurred reality defined my focus outwardly, a public pursuit which left my inner world empty. Behind this intense quest for power was a deep desire for love. As I soon learned, my heart was lifeless, without a beat, and my soul was sick.
I slipped slowly into a shrouded pit as the sorrows and hurt of the scarring wounds from within tore me down. Listening to the faint voices masquerading through the mist and haze of discouragement as the answer to these chains that have entangled me, I slowly leave behind the will to hold on and let go. The core issue we all face is when the self becomes our god and we worship it. When the self is our god, we strive to make all of life revolve around it, and with a consuming zeal, we seek to satisfy empty vanity.
I finally came to the end of myself.