Christ complex and the worried well

It used to be so predictable, my attraction to problematic people and their infinite sadness. i thought it was empathy, my gray area decision making that made me feel drawn to the ambivalent tendencies, but i was led to believe it was a Christ complex, a way to feel better by surrounding myself with those who seemed worse off. i realized i had a lengthening abyss mining its way through my soul, an endless search for the diamond in the rough. i was not wise enough to know when to stop digging.

somewhere along the way, i felt confident enough to rebel, to walk the opposite way. i thought it was a good thing taking risks, but i was led to believe i wanted an escape. and i believed. i worried well enough to resign myself to staying rooted to the ground and clipping my wings with workload that got me nowhere. i was given a chance to fly, with artificial wings and at the apex of my ascent, i just wanted to jump off. it was a disappearing act that lost its magic.

a friend had said, after a tragedy we are at our best. i stood up, took off my fake wings (at a price), and walked my way to new places. i thought i was growing, but i was led to believe it was merely a compromise. a dormancy to contentment. i found happiness. i found love and it was unconditional.

but my insides keep on mining, digging a deeper hole for which to jump into. could it be diamonds or shards of glass? could it be a way to the other side?

if the voice inside could not be silenced, should it be heard?