Education, Mental Health

About the world that passes me by

“Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence… But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you. Just that, said the fox. To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world….You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry,The Little Prince

Years ago, after finishing my sophomore year of highschool, she left. Left after I wiped the floors with her dignity. She left and he was proud of me. He was proud that I was finally able to overcome her. I sent her away, made her take the first plane where a seat was available. After so much time of smothering me, she was finally lost. Lost as she left me when she took away for the first time, leaving me questioning my existence. What was I doing? Who was I? It took me years to find myself. And when I finally did, she packed her bags and disappeared. I cried over her. I went crazy over her. I went crazy over her and she left me in a completely empty void. No feelings, no energy, no activities. She was defining me. She was dictating who I was. Therefore, when she left, it seemed like I ceased to exist. I don’t know what made me so lucky to survive this without her, but I did. I did and I am so proud of it, because I built a whole new life on top of her cenotaph. She became dead to me. I used to sometimes bring her flowers, to the empty grave I digged for her. Kept talking to her, in my mind, sometimes when I missed her, and I’m sure she heard me, but she had never bothered to show up again. You may be wondering how am I sure she heard me? Well, even though she never showed up back then, something in my life kept connecting our energies somehow, and I was never peaceful. When I was falling asleep, she’d show up in my dreams, leaving me breathless as usual, making me wake up with this bitter taste in my mouth. She always knew how to make herself hard to forget. Sometimes, I could feel her sneaking into my soul from behind. Dirty, as she has always been. But she was never there. Nothing to touch, nothing to feel, just my mind playing tricks on me, I used to think. He is proud that, from time to time, I forget to take my meds. Especially proud for the reason: my body is not requiring them anymore. Last night, I fell asleep without dosing off. I did keep waking up because of the nightmares, and I only slept for a few hours, but I fell asleep on my own. He’s proud that I stopped calling him ever so often, that we only meet once a month or even less. Or, at least, that’s what I like to believe.

I keep playing the same song for hours on end, staring at the walls, studying every crack and unevenness. I have very uneven walls. I’ve been working for two months and, since I got this job, I have a feeling that the bitch is back. I’m on medical leave, because she got me physically sick. Her presence feels so intense, I can barely handle her. She’s back in time to fuck me up once again. I think she’s back and I’m too afraid to tell him, because he’ll get me hooked again. This job came with her feeling cutting off my breath. Unlucky her, I am too busy to focus on her existence. She’s nothing for me, and this is how I want things to stay. I am too busy because I want to be that way, so I don’t have time to think about her. Even though I’m undergoing her, I keep my mind busy. She doesn’t need a body to make herself present. Just an open window through my mind and there she is. Run, girl. Sometimes I wonder, okay, I run. But from who? She’s immaterial. You can’t see her. I can’t see her. He can’t see her. Who am I running away from? Mmm… Myself? But I’m right here, why would I… Wait, wait, wait. Bitch found out my life is great without her and took a whole other form. She came to take revenge on what I did to her, she feels betrayed. She’s there when I kiss my boy goodnight, she’s there while he’s driving, she’s there and she’s using my mind to trick me into thinking, it ain’t her who’s fucking it up. She forgets one thing though, we go way back and I know her way too well. There’s no energy she can cover herslef up with that I won’t recognize. Unlucky me, she knows me like nobody. Knows what hurts, where to hit, when to attack, how to hide. The bitch knows my weaknesses. She’s here and I’m becoming who I was when she was commanding my life. And I built a whole new life when she left because I hate who I was before. She can’t ruin who I built myself to be.

Pyrrhic. She asked me, one day, to find a word to describe myself. I said pyrrhic. It means a battle you’re winning for too big of a price. Big enough you may think it’s not worth it. And that’s how I’ve been feeling lately. I wake up next to my boy and the only thing I can read is ‘too big of a deal’. I go to work and I’ve been told not to bother this much anymore. I barely see my family lately. I meet my friends and it’s all so tiresome sometimes. I’d do anything to get her out, any activity. Shopping, driving out of town, cleaning around my house, anything. There are many things that are hard to accept. One of them is her. Another one is the fact that if somebody doesn’t love you the way you want them to love you, it doesn’t mean that that somebody’s not loving you. Crawling under my blanket with her, slowly accepting her back into my life but still trying to fight her back, I’m trying to make peace with who I was and who i currently am, as they’re very different people, hard to combine, hard to make amends between them. I became selfless and it was and it is my choice, to be this way. It makes me breathe more easy, sleep a little bit more nightmare-free, and people seem happy, I mean, who wouldn’t be? This makes his life a little bit easier, even though he hates this in me. This makes my life a little bit easier, even tough I love this in myself.
I’d give anything to make her go. Anything to keep her away. I mean, there’s something I wouldn’t let go of, but in order to keep that going, I need to stop letting her tell me who I am. Not necessarily bury her in the hole I digged, but I need to learn to live with her and keep her somewhere under my bed or in my wardrobe, somewhere veiled so no one can see her. One day somebody told me they don’t like sad little girls. They like powerful women who probably barely have a beating of a heart and zero soul in them. And for a good while, I tried to be like that, but she didn’t let me. The capacity of hiding my sadness sticked to me, tough, so I’m always a ray of sunshine ready to conquer the world. Honestly, sometimes I really feel that way, and that’s when she’s hiding, because she hates the sun and the light. Anything that instigates a smile makes her run for her life. You go, girl. Run.

5 thoughts on “About the world that passes me by

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