The Dark Night of the Soul

By Ashley Weber

There exists a solemn and sacred space when you’ve reached rock bottom and all that you have left is surrender. This is a story of hope through pain, of creation built from the debris of destruction. Athena is a wife and mother who struggles through years of psychological and emotional abuse from her husband and the subsequent affair he carries out with her best friend. It takes a violent crash on a windy mountain road in a reckless and depressive state for Athena to reach that bottom place. This is a story about surviving the dark night of the soul to reach for light and life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664154520

Ashley Weber

Ashley Weber is no stranger to darkness. As an abuse survivor, she has battled severe depression and anxiety. Ashley is an outspoken advocate for those with similar struggles and has made it her mission to shed light on both mental health and abuse issues through her writing. Ashley lives in Southern California and has two beautiful daughters.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 by Ashley Weber.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 01/26/2021

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

825357

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

I

DEDICATE this to my beautiful daughters, Isabella and Josefina. Always remember that no darkness lasts forever. Hold on for the sunrise. It will surely come. The light is there, even if you can’t see it; just as your courage and strength are within you, even if you don’t always feel brave and strong. Love will get you through.

WITH SPECIAL THANKS to my parents, Craig and Terry Weber, who taught me how to love with ferocity and reckless abandon. To my sister Katie Weber for being the center of my heart and my best friend in this life. To my sister and dear friend Ashley Hollihan Sartor for loving me even when I was lost and for being the fight to my flight. To Britt Hoglund for running into the burning building that was my life without question and helping me to clear the wreckage so that I could find the courage to rebuild. You have a golden heart. To Aunt Zani, whose spirit is tethered to mine through the light of our shared moon and in whose friendship I have found gravity and a steady tide. To Aunt Joan for inspiring the title of this book and for the boundless love and encouragement. To my friend Sam F. Geballe for sharing your brilliant light with me. And to all of my fellow warriors who bravely battle the darkness every day. You have stood with me in the trenches and fortified my armor. I would not be here if it weren’t for this company of hope.

CHAPTER 1

It’s darker than usual on this winding road for a Saturday night. My headlights make moving shapes in the trees, bringing out the hidden depth in the black sheet of the roadside woods. The pills have finally hit me. I feel them creeping down my spine, like a slow wave crashing on the sinking sands of my anxiety. My skin is flush. My brain feels warm and swollen and mushy. I feel the chills from the two shots of tequila I took right before I left the house. I’m settling into this beautifully reckless place. The darkness tucks me into her warm embrace, singing her uniquely eerie tune. My anxiety behind me, the depression invites me in, its slow stillness like submerging into a warm bath. My hands loosely gripping the steering wheel do not look like my own. My body, my skin, feels ill-fitted, mismatched.

I roll down my windows as I let my foot press down onto the accelerator. The rich midnight air hits my skin like a thousand tiny needles. The deep scent of pine fills my lungs. The air is so fresh and full of life, but the road is so dark. It feels like I am completely alone. Total abandonment. Not a soul left on earth. But this fucking air. This soil-soaked breath. This vasculating earth mocks my sense of loneliness. Each gust of wind racing through the car seems to laugh at my presumption of solitude.

I push the gas pedal harder and feel the aggressive air tug at all my parts, threatening to rip them to shreds. My one companion on this road is the pine-scented breeze—uncomfortable, full of life, and making fun of all my glaring hypocrisy like a satirical court jester. How could anything be alive in such deep darkness? What if I just closed my eyes for a second? What if I just let go of the wheel for a fraction of time?

I slowly allow my eyelids to lower, like a theater curtain at the close of a production. I gently release my grip of the steering wheel. For a brief moment I am completely wrapped in the beautiful and captivating wings of darkness. Then … everything shatters.

CHAPTER 2

The smallest, faintest, and bravest light dares to beckon my lids to slightly peer open. So bright it seems to my shocked and wounded orbs. I flicker them open. Nothing is understood yet. I am cocooned in the safest place one could ever imagine. No idea what has transpired, what is to come, or who I even am. I am like an infant, and even with my very incomplete understanding of my circumstances, there is a deeper knowing that I am being reborn. My eyes sharpen their focus. White pillows seem to surround me. Leaves. I see leaves refracting off the white beam of light. They flutter in the breeze like a nervous ballerina. Then stop suddenly, as if even time itself could not move them.

Red. I see red. Just behind the white pillows that still seem to surround everything. I see figures and symbols that