Dark As Light

"Nothing can drive one closer to his own insanity than a haunting memory refusing its own death. "

– Darnell Ford

TL;DR  Listen here instead.  Follow this YouTube link:  Dark As Light

I used to peer into the darkness and see uncertainty and fear.  “Darkness is bad,” I’d tell myself.  “It’s where evil dwells.”  But over time, I began to question that narrative.  Without the darkness, how could I ever truly appreciate the light?  How would I marvel at the brilliance of the stars, the wonder of the moon, or the silent wingspan of an owl gliding through the night?

Yes, darkness can bring uncertainty—it can paralyze us.  But it also offers a choice: I could continue to fear it endlessly, or I could take the time to learn from it, to understand and live with it.  When I embraced the darkness, I discovered that the same beauty I cherished in daylight existed there too.  Accepting the darkness wasn’t about surrendering to it; it was about shifting my focus and observing what had always been there, hidden in the shadows.

I’ve come to terms with my own dark side—the shadow self, born from the abuse, neglect, and negativity I experienced throughout my life.  For years, I tried to bury it.  I swept it under the rug, locked it away in mental compartments, and ignored it with all my might.  After all, isn’t that what we’re taught?  Push it all down and just keep moving forward.

But suppressing it didn’t work.  Ignoring it didn’t make it go away.  I learned the hard truth: we can’t change what we don’t understand or acknowledge.  Sure, I was functional enough—I held a job, interacted with others, and maintained a façade of normalcy.  But inevitably, someone would cross one of the many lines I had drawn around myself, and everything would unravel.

I couldn’t understand why I would erupt in uncontrollable rage—running people off the road, screaming, chasing someone with a fork, fully intending to hurt them.  These weren’t just outbursts; they were evidence of a deep fracture within me.  And again, I realized: we can’t change what we don’t understand or acknowledge.

Storms 

My trauma will never go away.  In my world, there’s no such thing as being “healed” from a deeply traumatic experience.  Instead, I’m learning to recover, to live with it, not against it—to accept it, rather than sweep it under the rug.  By understanding my darkness, my shadow side, I’ve gained greater control over my trauma responses.  I feel a little less afraid of the darkness within me, less afraid of my shadows.  They are, after all, a part of who I am—a whole, complex being.

As long as I have memories, my experiences will exist and resurface from time to time.  In the past, my trauma would trigger giant thunderstorms—overwhelming storms I didn’t understand and couldn’t control.  I’d rage to extreme levels or plunge into depths so dark that I no longer recognized myself.  Those episodes left me hating myself or feeling emotionally numb as I faced the inevitable aftermath of my reactions.

But now, I understand my triggers better.  I’ve grown to understand more about who I truly am.  This self-awareness has given me power over my pain and greater control over my responses.  I’m able to communicate my boundaries more clearly to those close to me.  Most people respect them, and that is refreshing.  I’ve also learned that I can walk away from triggering situations—and I’m always better off when I choose not to stab anyone with a fork.

I am still a work in progress, and I wish I’d been able to afford professional therapy much earlier in life.  All I had access to were self-help books and articles, which I now understand can sometimes be counterproductive for those with deep trauma and PTSD.  In my attempts to self-help, I developed negative coping mechanisms to combat existing negative patterns—self-loathing, self-harm, and drinking among them.  These habits have been hard to reverse.

That said, some of what I learned was a helpful first step.  If I could go back, I would have sought professional guidance instead of insisting I could manage it all on my own.  Facing my demons in the mirror was the hardest journey I’ve ever undertaken.  And yes, I’m still on that journey—but I’m so glad I started it.  Self-awareness, understanding, and accepting my darkness have truly saved my life.

Now, most of my thunderstorms have been reduced to manageable downpours.  And I’ve learned always to carry an umbrella.