One night I had a nightmare, a nightmare full of captivity of my heart, locked my soul in chains. This had had happened when I was little, I remembered; I was too young to realize what was happening, to see that it was bad. Because of this they were not holding me. Here, I was older and knew all too well the happenings and what was going on; what I should want.

I was out, around so many people but they couldn't see my chains, which demanded now to oppress me for I refused to take action. When I finally got someone to listen, they smiled and shook their head saying, "There are no chains." I was exiled; trapped; stripped of my rights and of humanity. Sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers, all around, but the worst were the ones that thought they were my friends or even family. My back up against a wall, I began to wonder if I was just being selfish and if it was even real.

Finally, I tried escape. It worked to a point. My body was free but my soul, my core, my very being and essence were left behind; no way to get out. 'How can that be?' you ask. I could go out, around, interact. But in the back of my mind I always needed the chains. At least there I had comfort; I was content.

My chains were frowned upon by my Father but he seemed satisfied to let me be. To say I knew nothing about how to get out would be a lie. I knew all I had to do to get out would be to lean on my Dad; use the strength He freely offered, but the truth was I didn't even have the strength to want to leave my chains. The best I could do was to want to want to leave because I felt nothing when I was "free"; I lost part of me and the only way to get it back was to go to the chains.

In society, where wearing a mask was the only way to survive, the mask seized my emotions to the point I felt nothing, an empty void filled without meaning and truth, leaving only longing. I wanted so badly to be able to have emotions that were not oppressed, brutally robbed of life, thought, reason, but I couldn't find the will, or the way, to leave.

Returning and leaving; that was my life. So who was I, who should I have been? The one who is real; content; ashamed; hurting others; a slave; or the good one; 'free'; guiltless; happy, partially; the one who can, to a point, have a life, but is also void of just that; life?
I had a thought of horror, that the chains were not my enemy but part of who I was. How could I escape myself?

I longed for the palace of times to come and indeed I wondered about going home. But that was so disappointing to Him and to all who thought they were my friends and, indeed even ‘family’, that I could not bear to do it. I thought about segregation but realized that it too would hurt those around me.

Out of desperation I tried to talk to someone again, and, as luck would have it, it was someone who had been in chains close to mine and they told me that I need only "Take off the chains."

I broke down and wept bitter tears of hatred and discontent, no matter which path I chose.

My suffering was bearable, which just made it worse, bringing back the feelings of fear; fear that the agony would never be eased, fear that I would submit, but mostly, I feared that it was not even real, that it was just discrimination against myself.

At least that had not come to pass. I’d had yet to submit to the awful mountain. My sin weighed heavy on the twisted, ignored, despised thing that was my conscience but would the peace and joy there soon override the weight? I cannot stand alone much longer yet I have no one else.

I was in a constant tug-of-war not only with which person to be and which life to choose, but also because I was always either tortured with the inaction or angry with the disgrace.

I longed for a time gone past, where the chains were not my captor but just a string waiting to burst forth from memory and engulf me when I could understand the shame to the full extent of what I was doing.

Sometimes alone I would cry and feel my heart as the war ripped it to shreds as I was helpless, now just a shell of a person.

Now I ask, ‘what's left to say’? I have yet to get out of the pit that has consumed me and I have never woken up.