But how to get that control back. How to take a hold of my own vise, my own tunnel, my own life. There were no holes to crawl out of, not big enough anyway and I’d just have to get back in it again anyway. But there was a tiny threat of light coming from ahead. I stopped crawling for just a moment. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I could smell something. I couldn’t quite decide what it smelled like but it was like sweat and red roses mixed together.
That was it. I did my best to stand up in the crawling space. I was crouched over, well and truly but I wasn’t on the floor. There was space between me and the bottom. I took a step forward. That one step took up most of my energy and I thought about stopping again to close my eyes, to give up. But I didn’t; I took another step.
I kept taking steps until the crawling space became crouching space, then walking space and right back to breezing with the wind. Back to moving with the light instead of only seeing a tiny thread of it from a distance. I took another deep break and I finaly realised what I could smell, victory. It's always going to be hard work, but the result is pretty sweet when you make it. I guess it just goes to show that no matter how hard the tunnel seems to be, there will always be at least a tiny thread of light at the end of the tunnel. At least a tiny thread of hope.
Spread your wings and fly. It’s your life. Take control.
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