wildflower v. noxious weed

I am emerging from several years of recovery from emotional illness. When I suffered most, I did not believe I would ever find a time when my life was more than wound. I seemed to unceasingly fall in an infinite black wormhole in the cosmos, no beginning, no end. Inside this wormhole, where I lived for several years, there was lots of rusty barbed wire that perpetually snagged me. Also, there were electrical shocks, caused by loose,live wires. As I fell, I would bump up against an open electrical cord, zapped, one moment, scrape my heart on rusty barbed wire the next. A rusty snag, a sharp shock. Also, broken glass everywhere, sometimes covering me with a fine, painful dust. Sometimes the gritty dust got in my eyes and my eyes bled along with my heart. No one was in there with me. It was hell. And I didn't think I would ever emerge.

And now I have.

I am well. I am fragile but, also, not fragile. I can get caught in the fear of going back to the wormhole one moment and then in the next moment I am mesmerized by sunny bliss. Maybe I am in a new kind of wormhole, one with both heaven and hell.

I should like to live only in heaven.