Darkness enveloped me in its harsh embrace as I sat huddled in the corner of my locker room. I could feel the weight of the world, it felt like, bearing down on me. The voices in my head were becoming relentless and their whispers grew louder and louder with each passing moment. The heaviness of their words felt like an unbearable burden, and I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to hold on. It was a battle fought alone, like so many times before, but this time, the darkness seemed insurmountable.
My brother, Cody, always the one to be vigilant and protective, noticed my internal torment. He could see through the façade I put up for the world to see and knew things for me were spiraling out of control. Cody knew all too well that when the voices ran rampant, it spelled trouble. So, when he noticed my state, he went to seek out the one person who he knew could save me from myself, my best friend, Randy Orton.
Randy had experienced similar battles within himself that he empathized with the turmoil that consumed me. As he entered the room, he didn't bother to turn on the lights. The man knew where I was, having done this very thing with me multiple times before. He also knew that sometimes the darkness provides solace, allowing me to confront my struggles without distractions even if it was terrifying at the same time. And without a word, Randy sat down next to me and pulled my now shaking figure into his hold.
We sat like that for a few moments before his calm and gentle voice tore through the loud whispers. "YN, the voices in your head, whatever they are saying, are wrong." He said as his fingers traveled lightly up and down my arm. "You are stronger than them. You have the power to make them disappear."
His words were the lifeline I needed to pull myself away from the mental ledge I was standing on. A patient reminder that the voices didn't define me, that I was stronger than the darkness that tried to consume me. He was my beacon of hope, illuminating a path towards the light. I clung on to each word that Randy said like a person drowning clings to a life raft, desperate to survive.
Slowly but surely, my best friend talked me down from the brink. He had a way of reminding me that I was valuable and worthy of all the good things that had happened to me and all the things yet to come. That the darkness and the voices didn't get to win.
That night, like so many times before, Randy saved me in more ways than one. He made it known I was never alone in the mental fight against myself. That man was forever my guiding light, and I was more than grateful to have someone like him around for moments like this.
