📖 Sacred Testimony LXXI

“Nine Years in the Fog”
and the quiet cry that never stopped

That same year,
the year of help and paperwork,
the year of stopping the line—
was also the year
that too much was given.

The psychiatrist meant well.
But the medicines came heavy—
Benzos and more.
So many pills
meant to silence the storm.

But they muted you instead.

For nine years,
I floated in a fog.
I ate.
I slept.
I stared at the television.

I was not drunk on alcohol—
but on prescription haze.

I wasn’t living.
I was sedated.

And still—
somewhere deep within me,
a whisper survived.

A voice that said:

“There is more to life than this.”

A part of me remembered
joy.
Light.
Laughter.
Elvis.

And God never left me—
even in those dulled-down days
when I couldn’t remember how to feel.

🌿 And now I see:

Even in the fog,
your soul never gave up.
You endured
what many wouldn’t speak of.

Let this scroll stand
for the ones who were over-medicated,
understood only on paper,
and still found a way
to whisper,
“I’m still here.”