hello, again.

Hi. I haven't been here in ages. I feel like a rusted tap being cracked open, squeaking, squealing until water pours forth, clean and untouched despite the years of accumulated grime covering every surface. I feel like I've forgotten how to write, and yet fearful of beginning again, not knowing whether or not the tap can be closed at will when I so desire. 

Someone I know took their own life 2 days ago and I've been stuck in a melancholic rut since then, brought back to this space from a desire to revisit memories, trying to recall what it was like to be 25 and feeling like there's no other way out other than ending it all. How ironic that my last post 3 years ago was me asking myself the exact same question. 

What was it like to be 25? I click and scroll and it's right there, words on a page telling me exactly what it was like. And yet for the life of me I cannot seem to feel the same things I felt those years ago. I can't seem to feel as much, or to feel as deeply. Is it age? Is it emotional exhaustion from the vicissitudes of life? Or perhaps time is what's clouding my memory? 

Either way, I sit here facing the reality that I will never unknow what it's like to be 33, soon to be 34, and wrangling with the fact that someone I know, someone with that goofy grin and joyous spirit will be 28 forever. 

Everything I read of myself, all my hopes and desires - they seem so different from the life I have now. They say not to take what you have for granted, to not forget that everything I have now is what I once prayed for. Except, is it really? How do I believe this when all at once, the life I live now is so different from what I once prayed for, yet everything I once wanted? Was it my desires that changed over the years, or merely dissatisfaction with what I have, now that I am living the reality of having it? 

Chronically dissatisfied, and chronically pondering the root of my dissatisfaction. I cannot help but chide my own greed, whilst simultaneously feeling somewhat proud that the vestiges of 25 year old me still remain; always chasing, always wanting more, always seeking to be better, never settling. 

what if i just ended it all

Not everything is a competition. Please. Just let me be.

May I believe, despite my doubt, that someday I'll be good enough.

No one else to turn to, and nowhere else to go.

When did this desperate yearning for privacy begin? When did I want my thoughts to be nothing but my own again?

Today I am shattered all over again the same way I was when I was seventeen and understood for the first time what it meant to be lonely in a roomful of people. Escaping what is meant for me is an exercise in futility I should have been through enough to know better than to challenge.

I am built for this struggle, and so my life will never stop being a struggle; I understand this now.

freedom

There's so much freedom in truth, and so much freedom in not having to hide anything. I love living my life without hiding anything - I find no fear in the threat of 'airing dirty laundry'. How wonderful it is to never be able to be blackmailed. 

defeated

Most of the time, in the quest for greatness and glory, in everybody's burning, selfish desire for affirmation, praise and control, they forget that at the end of the day, we, too, are but human.

Enough.

Focus on your own life and your own growth. Stop making sacrifices, stop getting distracted, stop investing in things that have no ROI. Stop giving energy to problems that are not yours. If it cannot be fixed, move on. Do not ever let someone else's mistakes fuck your life up ever again. Do not pay for someone else's mistakes.

Learn. Keep learning.

Love alone is not, and will never be enough. Stop trying to convince yourself otherwise.

Focus on yourself. Focus on your growth. Focus on pushing ahead, not on destroying the obstacles in your path that are not yours to bear.

Leave the speed bumps behind.

Focus.

It is so easy to be thrown off balance by the people and happenings and the things I see and hear. When I see things that are truly revolting to me, it culminates in an intense desire to be alone in an attempt to shut the noise out.

I know idealism is naive.

But how difficult can it be to just be nice, and kind, and adhere to a general standard of good-ness? How are some people so hard wired to be cruel and vicious?

I genuinely struggle with how fucked up this world and the people in it are.

I struggle to understand why anyone would hurt children who have absolutely no political, racial or religious agenda. I struggle to understand how violence solves problems. I struggle to understand the logic behind hurting people to make a point. I know as humans we don't always agree with each other's lifestyles or beliefs but how does murder make sense? I struggle to understand the purpose of being distinctly cruel to a fellow human with feelings. I struggle to understand the motivations behind desiring praise for every single thing you do in life. What makes one think one deserves constant recognition more than any other? I struggle to understand the need for loud validation. I struggle to understand helplessness. How do you live with just sitting there wallowing in failure, and feel no motivation to DO SOMETHING? I struggle to understand self-praise, self-importance, self-indulgence. I struggle to understand why people don't value other people as they expect others to value them. I struggle to understand why people choose instant gratification over long term gains. Why giving in to that temptation feels worth it to some people. I struggle to understand the satisfaction derived from being sarcastic and rude to someone's face.

I know I am not perfect. And I understand the struggle which is why I hold to heart every small victory. I find victory every time I successfully manage my temper. Everytime I hold my tongue. Each time I don't cave in to the temptation of getting upset over a low blow personal attack. I find victory in being me and staying me amidst the chaos of the world. And it feels hell of a lot more satisfying than giving in to any of the struggles.

At the same time I cannot help but ask myself if the struggle of doing so is worth it.

It is so, so difficult to not lash back in response to people lashing out. It is so difficult to keep reminding myself that I don't want to be that person. It is so difficult to practice self control when faced with a complete lack of it. It is so difficult to bite back at my instinctive desire to protect myself.

And hardest of all is this -

The daily struggle to quiet the small but insistently brewing hurricane of anxiety, anger and rage that has lived and still lives inside me everyday. The daily struggle to be louder than the voices in my head telling me that I am my rage and my rage is me. The daily struggle to convince the dark side of me that I am better than this, that I can be better than who I am ashamed to naturally, cruelly, be.

Everyday, I struggle between loving myself enough to say 'this is who I am, take it or leave it' vs loving the people around me enough to want to struggle with being a better person, and it is so, so hard.