What if you woke up in a casket, encased in total darkness, six feet under ground with no one to hear you scream?
Premature burial is a real thing, though not super common by any means. There are plenty of documented cases not to mention several movies Hollywood took a crack at, pun intended. Pun always intended.
In these scenarios, the re-deaths are similar. Kids playing by a cemetary and they hear banging and loud screams. By the time people came and exhumed the coffin, the now-corpse had died of either heart failure or suffocation. Their bodies twisted, clothes torn to shreds and finger nail scratches all over the insides of the caskets. Terrifying. And what’s possibly even scarier? Why are there kids constantly playing in or around the graveyards?
If you’re anything like me, you literally get a chill at the thought of being in a tight space, let alone the heartstopping panic of being buried alive, or prematurely buried as its apparently termed. No way out, its pitch black and all you can do is try to remain calm and wait to run out of air. You have to give up all hope, as your life flashes before your eyes and you can’t move. Paralyzed shortly before your wrongful death. Close your eyes and imagine this for a second.
Makes me think (a massive statement because I’ve been known not to). How often do we find ourselves prit near paralyzed and walled in? Ever feel alone in the dark and we cry out for help and it falls on deaf ears? Or even worse, we’re found after it’s too late and god awful damage has been done. Do you ever kick and claw and fight for your very life but to no avail? The claustrophobic experience is where I do not want to be though I’ve been there time and time again.
Sure, life can have one at the ready, a sturdy coffin, for at that perfect fallible moment where you trip up and end up in the casket. But often times I put myself in that box of death. With fears, worry, addiction and self-doubt. Failures, heart break and depression can push you in as well.
This is where the enemy wants us. Terrified and without oxygen. Buried and sealed off. Alone and dying. How is it we’ve all been there but we are here to talk about it today? What saved us? What put us back on track? The human spirit, that’s what.
We pulse with hope, faith and love. We either serve a higher power or we expose ourself to the spirit of suicide. We are fighters, always arising, from grave after grave. No box can hold us, not while we are alive, any way.
Never lose hope.
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