I have been lost for a while now and I need to find my way back. I have been angry with a lot of good reasons, with a lot of people to blame, but at the end of the day I am not happy with the person I have become.
Yes, I have been hurt, but I don’t want to make excuses. I have failed to rise above it. I know I should have.
But this foggy, messed up, mistaken version of myself is yet to learn one of the most important lessons of all; forgiveness and self love.
I need to cut myself some slack, let myself learn and grow and – for gods sake – stop holding myself back and writing myself off as irredeemable. I have friends whom I would love no matter what but why is it so difficult for me to give myself that same chance. I am not proud of my past, but I am going to be that friend, to myself; and she might be difficult to like right now but I like to think that the person who grows out of this part of her life is going to be worth all that trouble and I am going to try and help her believe it.
I’ve had to deal with a lot of disappointment recently. For a moment though, it seemed like everything was finally falling into place. This was a huge development for me because I’m young and I don’t need to know what my destination is as long as I have a sign or even a clue to let me know that I was ‘on my way home, the long way round’.
Do you think destiny the name we give the place we land – where ever it may be – after years of floating around like feathers in the wind, or can we trust that wind to actually be taking us somewhere we were always meant to be; and does that mean there isn’t a point in trying to fight those forces of nature that are controlling the direction of our lives?
I know now and all too well that I can’t plan my life too extensively so I’ve decided to stop praying for specific things like an opportunity to study at my dream university or getting that perfect job because it would mean that I have already limited my chances of finding happiness by deciding that I couldn’t be happy without these things. There’s always room in life for us to discover and develop new passions and be opened up to new opportunities and experiences that we hadn’t even thought of before and while I agree that happiness isn’t a place, it’s a state of mind, I think it can also become a place when your nightmares are in the world you wake up to and all you can do about it is look forward to the day you finally get to leave it behind.
Instead I have decided that my new prayer for life and whatever comes my way is just to be okay; with the disappointment and the lost hope and anything else that might be keeping me down because I think that if I can make myself be okay, then I can move on from everything that is going wrong right now and keep moving until I create my own destiny.
I thought you were the best person I knew even when your words stabbed my heart like the cold. It was the power that I had given you at a time when I didn’t know any better that you still wielded, even now when I did, simply because I don’t know how to take it back.
You’ve built me up with your kindness only to be torn down by your anger. All my life I have wished for some sort of clarity because I struggled to define the role you played in my life. Were you on my side or against it by default? Maybe I knew all along but I didn’t want to accept it because if I did you would lose me, and sometimes I was all you had. I tried to protect you from that hurt by silently taking in every word as you dissected my life, every little action and reaction, till you were convinced that you had me figured out but every shot that I didn’t take at you just made me look weaker in your eyes.
You broke my spirit just so you could have a better grip on my heart and tied up my emotions like hands behind my back so that you could tell me what I was and was not allowed to feel.
There isn’t a moment I can put a finger on to call it a turning point, but the dust is finally settling and our relationship is reaching its equilibrium. Maybe it’s because I am older now and I don’t need you the way I used to. A part of me still craves your approval but a growing part of me just doesn’t care anymore. I have tried to be the person you wanted me to be, at the cost of being myself. While accepting the fact that nothing I do will ever be good enough for you gives me the strength to walk away, realizing that I shouldn’t have had to do it in the first place makes me regret all the time I have already wasted.
I think I am finally learning that no matter what the circumstances are, I deserve to be treated with respect and dignity as an individual; and if not acceptance, at least an understanding of the fact that I am my own person, with my own thoughts and dreams and quirks and idiosyncrasies and a unique way of seeing the world. They may be completely different from the views that you hold to be the foundation of your life and your priorities and your successes, but they are not necessarily wrong.
I can’t tell you what choices to make but I can sure as hell tell you what your choices are.
I have watched my life unfold, with good days and bad days wondering what it would all come down to and I think this might be it, the opportunity of a lifetime.
One of two things can happen. I could get the perfect job, become independent and live the rest of my life happily ever after or I could lose it to someone else, someone who has paid the gatekeepers their dues and my life would continue the same way it always has, close to being something special but not quite there yet.
I’ve been waiting for a grand gesture by the universe that hardly seems to be paying attention. Life isn’t like a movie where a lifetime of struggle culminates in one crowing moment of glory that makes it all seem worth it, a petrichor moment when the dry earth finally receives its rain. At best, it might be a series of little victories, just enough to keep us going a little while longer.
I believe in a God in whom all things are possible but (and this is hard to admit) I don’t know if I believe because I so desperately need it to be true. There is a part of my brain that truly loves God but there is also a part of me that wonders if it’s just a crutch I need to depend on to make up for all the things that I cannot be.
I have seen impossible things. It shouldn’t be this hard to believe. I know its nothing but my own skepticism but sometimes I wonder if we’re just like leaves blowing in the wind and what we call miracles is the universe fooling us into believing we’re flying when we’ve really only been slowly falling to the earth this whole time.
If I keep reminding myself that good things have happened to me, no matter how they might have found me, whether you call it being lucky or blessed I have been both and I just might make it.
The Earth is a changed planet. Technology evolved us, invaded our lives and then it enslaved us.
We developed the simple barter system into much more complex and nuanced systems of acquiring things. We traveled further and further away from our homes until we discovered other cultures that we didn’t understand, and we called them barbarians so that we could try to tame each other.
Then we discovered technology, a new kind of fire that we could not control. It began with a wheel, steam engine and a light bulb that gave way to sky scrapers and rocket ships, the internet. Science continues to fuel our ongoing conversation with the Universe and little by little she is revealing her most closely guarded secrets to us, but what have we learned so far?
We continue to find ways that cause a divide by a language or a name or a weaker sex or a darker skin color. These are issues that should feel out of place in this century. Genetics will tell you that race is not a real thing. It derives from our places of origin, not as a construct of the Universe. Anatomy will tell us that men and women are different but we are not different enough to qualify as a different species. So how is it that women are sometimes excluded from the definition of ‘humans’ to whom basic human rights are owed? We are all made the same, with skin and bones and blood and veins. How is it that the only thing that matters isn’t kindness and love and brotherhood?
We can hold a world of knowledge in the palm of our hand, a world that we can barely understand; only this time we are the barbarians that need to be tamed by it.
If I could imagine a different world, I would re-imagine this one, with inhabitants that have a greater capacity to understand one another in a way that reflects our own understanding of the Universe. A species that can travel to the moon and back can surely figure out how to treat each other with common decency.
Our minds continuously refuse to be contained by both its intelligence and stupidity.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Interplanet Janet.”
I am a new creation. At the risk of sounding extremely narcissistic I will say, I am like nothing the world has ever seen and there will never be anyone like me ever again. I am a combination of my personality, my talents, my features, my experiences and my thoughts that cannot be recreated. This experience, this life that I am living right now, will take place once in a lifetime, in all the lifetimes that have ever walked and talked and breathed the air of this Earth and swum in its oceans and taken in the warmth of the sun on their skin.
Take a moment to think about that.
Sometimes our days feel like too much of a burden to bear. Our existence feels like a curse and we will wonder why we are here. We are here because we are different, because we change things just by existing. Even if that existence might seem small in comparison, just like a name etched on an old desk connects us to an unknown part of history and lets us know that someone once stood in that same place, we too shall be remembered.
People will try to convince us that we need to accomplish certain things to make our lives can matter, with champagne and cars and chateaus and vineyards. . Bank notes feel no loyalty towards anyone; it will pass hands from one man to another because that’s what it was meant to do. The only things we can own are our actions and words because that is how we truly make our mark on the world.
Our lives already matter. We matter simply by existing.
I need to write because I need to heal but there is part of me that I can never put on paper. There is a part of me that is filled with hate when it should be filled with love and I carry that burden around like a deep gash on my skin. I am constantly reminded of it.
Physical pain numbs my mind. My focus is shifted and I am given a moment in which I can forget, a moment so that I can pause and regroup, and hate myself a little less. It is not an escape, but an opportunity to rest before I must start running again.
I keep running but my destination is not a place my feet can take me.
There is a place in my mind, where I am 5 years old again, and I am able to trust you and laugh with you again like the last 19 years never happened – but they did, and you were taken away from me just like she was taken away from you and it made you bitter.
She still talks to me sometimes, and tries to bring me back to you and it’s not that I don’t want to listen, but her voice only makes me think of all the chances we lost and miss a life I never had, and that hurts too much so I block her out.
You should have fought for me when we still had a chance.