The man in the graveyard

Story told of the man of Gerasenes from his point of view.

It's so lonely living with the dead here in the graveyard. No one likes to come near me, nice people throw me food, but they stay well away. I have no friends, but i hear constant voices, the funny thing is they come from inside of me. These things inside of me have a name, it is many, they say that because they are many in number, they talk to my mind and they even use my mouth to talk and express themselves.

I am a real man with feelings, but people don't understand me. They think I have lost my mind, but my mind works, it is just trapped and held hostage. Everyone in the town knows who I am, but they don't think I can be helped. My family wish I could find help, but they have given up now and have resorted to restraining me in the hope that I won't hurt myself. I cry out day and night, and I lose control of myself, I rage with anger, and that anger is so strong, sometimes I get strength from the things that are in me and I am able to break the chains that bind me.

One day I went to a man who I thought might be able to help me. The things inside of me took control of me as I fell at this man's feet. I was scared, but the things in me were terrified. This man helped me though, he came close to me and listened to the many voices scream out at him. He knew it wasn't me talking, he knew that I was a person suffering. He knew that I could not freely express myself because something in me was taking my freedom of expression. I could no longer be heard for who I was, and I had a voice but it was buried beneath the deadness of my soul.

The man that helped me was Jesus. He took the things that were hiding my life. He didn't add anything to me, but he stripped away everything that was causing me damage. I could now express myself in action, word and deed. I was now released to live.

I went to the town and to the people I knew. They wouldn't listen to me, infact they were scared. They told Jesus to leave, as he made them uncomfortable.

The people didn't understand me before and they certainly didn't understand me now. They will not face me and they cannot comprehend the change they see in me. They have decided in their minds what is possible and they will not change their minds for me. I wonder who of them will listen to me? Who of them will dare sit down and share a meal with me? I sit alone at my table and eat because none of them will change their minds for me. Perhaps my story will go untold. I guess I will have to remain as an outcast, once chained, but now free.