Desperate to Become

There's a story in one of the episodes of West Wing that I love. It's about a guy in a hole. Leo tells it to Josh when he's having trouble with PTSD after being shot:

This guy is walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, "Hey you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me. Can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here." The friend say, "Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out."

I wish I had a friend who would jump in the hole right now. I love my friends for the support they offer, but I have no idea how to get out. I have no idea where I'm going, or what I'm doing. A few months ago it was so clear ... and slowly that clarity began to fade. The opportunities I wanted to pursue became unreachable. Doors have closed on me, and the choices I've made that seemed right at the time now appear to be just a recurrence of the same mistakes I've made before.

All this has happened before and all of it will happen again ...

I feel like the spark inside of me is desperate to become a raging fire, illuminating my world with a light that changes everything: how people see me, how they see themselves, how we interact with each other. I feel like there's something incredible inside of me that's simply trapped by this unimpressive mortal shell.

I don't know how to let it out.