And on days you don’t feel like you’re getting any better…
This morning at 1 am, I was having a moment of self-reflection. One where I thought about where I was and what I was doing and how to grow from there. Or, how to not go downhill from there.
Of late, my life has been a series of events. The good. The bad. The ugly. The worse and the so worse. Some days I want to throw in the shovel and quit. I want to run away from my life, badly.
But I can’t. Can you?
As fighters, and survivors, we do not flee at the first sign of discomfort. Or more especially, we are not allowed to flee at the first sign of discomfort. Not allowed to flee by who? By ourselves, of course.
But it was shocking to me to note that in all my plans for a new house and a new job, I didn’t put too much thought into whether I could still be creative if I had a lot of things going on. Would I still be able to write? Would I still be able to see in colours, or would I get caught up in the interesting yet monotonous nature of my job and lose my authenticity? I didn’t think of that then. But I do now.
I am thinking about it now and I’m panicking. I can feel the hysteria at the back of my throat and the fear underneath my eyelids as I wonder if I’m truly ready for the world. Can I go back to almost two decades ago and not come to the world? Ask that I shouldn’t exist. But isn’t that selfish? Doesn’t that nullify the fact that I was born to make the world a much better place to live? And if I do not feel fulfilled, what’s the purpose of all these? What’s the purpose of everything I’ve had to live through?
There was a time in my life when I convinced myself that every time I hit rock bottom in writing, I should relax and enjoy other things. It worked while it did. But it’s a whole different ballgame when you have set deadlines for yourself and they’re approaching quite fast. When all you can show off for what you’ve achieved in your writing is your mental health blog, a couple of publications in some magazines and some followings from people who genuinely believe in you.
That should count for something, shouldn’t it? Shouldn’t it?
But when you’ve been made to believe your whole life that you have to be doing something to be worthy of living, it gets difficult to live with the guilt of waking up every morning and not having the will to live. The will to go again. You feel guilty about not doing anything yet you feel too tired to do anything.
What if I don’t want to live? you say. Yes, what if? But you do, don’t you? You want to live that’s why you resolved to do just that this year. To do. And live. And be free. And make mistakes. Because who would beat you, if not life? And haven’t life beaten you enough for you to know you’re a warrior who would never go down without a fight?
On days you don’t feel like you’re getting any better, I want you to remember that it’s okay. It’s okay to exist outside of who the world expects you to be; who you expect you to be. It’s okay to be. To breathe. To take silly pictures.
Most especially, it’s okay to live. Please. Live.
