Alone is bad.
Nothing good becomes of being alone. Yet I want it. As far back as second grade I would escape to my room and take long showers just to be alone. Alone happened often. I used to believe that I needed alone time. Time to just relax and unwind. Alone was like a blanket to me. Something to keep me wam and cozy. Something I could wrap myself in at night and fall asleep with. Alone was a parasite disguised as a blanket. Not only did I let it suck much of my life away, I wanted it to. I wanted to be with alone. Alone is dark.
Dark is decietful. Appearing as the comforting alone it is actually a place that causes me frustration, anxiouty, and sadness. A feeling a kin to the place the bible describes as having weeping and gnashing of teeth.
I think I could see past the veil of alone and see the evil that lay behind. And I accepted it. That monster.
I feel like this was ultimately my down fall. I think most of my problems (in conjunction with others) can be traced to back to dark. Only now do I realise that that was wrong/sinful and potentially demonic in nature. I'm addicted to this dark, to this alone. I want it's comfort.
Praise God for this recent revelation. For now that I know what dark is and how it attacks me, I can battle it. I can hang with friends, do things, and enjoy the warmth and comfort of the Sun that is only light.
