The Dark Ages – a label that employs traditional light-versus-darkness imagery to contrast the “darkness” of a period with earlier and later periods of “light”. In world history, it refers to the downfall of the Roman Empire. In mine, it is what I prefer to call “years of sacrifice”.
My Dark Age is characterized by selfless goals and acts ultimately for the sake of the people I love the most, to the point of (1) physical deterioration – an overall condition of being terribly out of shape including an unhealthy weight, a pair of heavy eyes, an aging skin, and a feeling of sluggishness and extreme fatigue, with the incapacity to highly prioritize doing something about it; (2) emotional distress most evidently shown through numerous and, oftentimes irrational episodes of hot-headedness; and lastly, (3) the mentality and justification that my needs, whether material or emotional come after the needs of those for whom I am sacrificing, accompanied by a constant feeling of guilt or fear of over-rewarding myself when I do things for my benefit. During this time, I find myself in situations far from my ideal, far from the place I want myself to be. But that’s the reason I refer to it as years of sacrifice because it is a period that serves as a proof that I am capable of unconditional love, the kind of love that is greater than my love for self, the kind of love that transcends all kinds of darkness.
Because it is often said that the darkest hour is just before the dawn, that there is hope, even in the worst of circumstances. I trust that after these dark times, these years of sacrifice, I will be in a good place. I will be in a period of undeniable light that even my eyes will not fail to show. Yes, it will radiate from within me and it will show physically, emotionally. And only love can give me this kind of hope.
But for now, let me endure this period of darkness. I can almost see the light.