I'm having such a difficult time, if you're asking. I can't keep up with my reality. I wish I didn't have one. If I could I'd rather live in this blog, forever disguised. Writing used to comfort me but I struggle to find the right words lately. I try to interpret my thoughts but I somehow get stuck in the process. It consumes me first, like fire. What it touches, it burns. I am left with nothing but ashes. I write about the aftermath because it seems to be the most bearable pain.
I used to talk about keeping afloat amidst all the persistent waves I encounter. But even that, recently, I struggle with. My story gets lost to a million other little stories in my head. Each day becomes a story of an even bigger story. Each phone call is just another story of my growing anxiety.
I battle my thoughts with anger and indifference. Yet I seem to have lost the ability to get mad these days. I just break down and cry. In fact, I've been crying a lot lately. I seem to have forgotten any alternative reaction but to cry. I'm just so tired. I don't want to face another day carrying all this misery with me.
I keep waiting for things to get better. They say, "It gets worse before it gets better." Well, it has been "worse" for a while now, when will it get better? At the edge of the cliff, at the brink of giving up, I always tell myself, "It gets better from here." That usually gives me hope. I hang on to dear life because I don't want to miss out on the "better" part. So I scour for a solution and find a way to survive, because after all, "It gets better from here, right?" Spoiler alert, it doesn't. Life seems to be making fun of me. I don't know how else to describe it. How farther will this take me? How deeper should I go before I get pulled back up? I don't understand how it works, really. I've been standing at the edge of my sanity for years now. What does life want from me? What is it looking for? What sign should I give so it knows I am at my limit? Does it actually want me to give up for real? Is it what this is? Am I being manipulated just so I don't die? And all the "It will get better from here" is just B.S.? Maybe I'm not supposed to hang on. Maybe I'm not supposed to fight back. Maybe all this "hope" only signals "I can still handle it".
Do I just give up, then? Am I not supposed to find the will to fight back? Do I just let darkness consume me? Is that the "worse" part before it gets better? Is that what they mean?
They tell you that "the truth will set you free". Nope, what it did is let me out of the cage and put me in a microscope. That seems to me an even bigger cage. It's true what BTS said in one of their songs- Magic Shop, "I know you're hesitating because even if you tell the truth it comes back as scars." BTS seems to be the only one being honest here.
I did exactly what people told me to do. I confessed about my frustrations, my anguish, my despair, my struggles, and my realizations. For the first time in my life, I didn't hold anything back. Yes, for a while I did feel better. But it didn't change anything. I am still stuck on the same restraints that held me back even before. Here I thought I'd finally be understood. I may be hated, but at least, I am understood. That's all I want. That he will see right through me and by that he will understand me, then empathize, and then finally, he will help me. He will realize how hard it was for me (all alone dealing with it) and share in my burden of guilt. Lucky if he admires me for my strength but that's just an extra. After all, he is my Dad, right? News flash, negative. He not only dismissed it, but he blamed me for it. He engraved the same words that I used to tell myself but the only difference is, I cannot control his thoughts much like what I did with mine. In the end, I'm stuck with the echoes of his voice. No matter how much I tell him that I have learned from my mistakes and that's all that matters, it still won't move him. He would forever be blaming me for my many detours, reliving the horrors of my past in every family gathering. He will never forgive me.
I have learned to heal myself the hard way and here he is scarring me, permanently. I will never get out of this cycle, with or without honesty. The only possible way is if I achieve perfection (somehow) and a complete waiver of life and liberty which will in turn give him absolute dominion over my life choices. I'll forever be waiting for the "better" part of life and until he exists, it will never occur. Alas I will be 50 before I know it.
What a complete waste of intelligence. What a complete waste of passion and potential. I pity myself and the many opportunities I missed out on because my mental health is polluting my attitude, my emotions, and my capacity to engage with the world. I'll be standing at the end of life wishing the next one will be "better". Oh wait, is that what this is? That the better comes after all. Only it's not supposed to be estimated at this lifetime.
It does get better, but not next year, not next decade, but next lifetime. After all no one can argue, as a matter of fact, that this one- this lifetime, is definitely the worst.
Goodluck to you my friend, it's a dark path ahead. It will not get better from here. But at least you know it will be on your next life. Only you won't be there to enjoy it.
Love, with an aching heart,
Lilah Gran
0 Comments:
Post a Comment