Random, Rambling Thoughts of an INFJ (Part 2)

What am I doing here?

I don't know.

Sometimes, most times, I don't know what I'm doing here. Not really. Sure, I think deep down I've drilled the big philosophical explanation into my mind until I won't forget it, but there's a difference between knowing and knowing.

What am I doing here right now?

I feel like I'm constantly on the edge of a cliff, and I'm alright there until I realize I'm that far from an endless fall. I doubt everything that has held me safely there, even God. Sometimes I get such a keen realization of how close I am from trouble that I do stumble and start falling. I fall into doubt, fear, and worry and keep falling and falling till l even doubt the worth of my own life. Suddenly I am someone I don't know, and I remember who I used to be, but it's a dim memory. I want to slap myself in the face to get back to being myself, but I don't even know if I can get back. It's scary -this fall, and yet I find myself in it more often than I like.

Somehow or another, I do eventually clamber back up the cliff. My hands bleeding as they scrape the rock's rough sides to stop my downward spiral. My feet constantly slipping and sliding. My strength wearing thin from how much I exert to win back joy and peace because even though there are Hands to help, I won't let them. I'll ask for help as soon as I get back to the top and forget the darkness of the fall, but when I reach the top, a small fear creeps in and makes me wonder if I've actually secured myself more firmly beside the cliff's edge. Maybe I've only lulled my fears to sleep in a false sense of security. When I was down in the fall, I swore something had to change, but now I'm here, and everything is still the same because I don't know how to make the changes. The fears are still there right below the surface ready to throw me off the next time I suddenly look up in the middle of a crowd or out on a walk by myself and wonder:

What am I doing here?