Coming back to life.

"I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life."

Rainclouds cover the sky.
There is this peace today. Of dark skies and Pink Floyd.
Solitude by the window, a cup of tea to keep me company.

I am healing.
I am rising.
I can feel it today.
I can breathe.

I do not apologize for being me.
I do not apologize for being silent but passionate.
I do not apologize for doing what has been good for me even if it has been hard.
I do not apologize for trying, doing my best, even if that is not much.
I do not apologize for fighting and struggling. Letting go of things that hurt me.
I do not apologize for dreaming.
I do not apologize for trying to make friends and failing most of the time. The successes make it worth it. And it's not my fault.
And I do not apologize for opening up. Exposing myself.

I did this largely alone, but I am not sorry that I reached out when I couldn't fight by myself anymore. No one should.  It's not easy, but you will find the people who care and understand. One day.
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to ask for help. Admit that you need help. And accept the help.
Raging this war by myself has made me strong. Exposing my vulnerability made me think I was weak, but then I realized it has made me stronger.
Because I am happier. And when you have that on your side you're almost invincible.

I am not sorry that I'm not as pretty or smart as the other people.
I am me and I'm beginning to embrace who I am.

I am alive, as I deserve to be.
Because of everyone I love.
I will not go back to the cave I imprisoned myself in.

Because I deserve it. I deserve this.
I deserve the silence of the darkening evening sky.
The birdsong and the grass and the smell of rain.
I deserve to look up at the night sky and feel like I belong to the seemingly infinite universe.
I deserve to dress up all I want whenever I want, be colourful, be a woman and feel like a woman.

I deserve to walk tall in my heels, confident. Sway my head, sing loudly, just for myself, like I'm in a music video.
I deserve to feel amazing and ecstatic.
I deserve to want and be wanted.

I am full of love and peace.
I have learnt who I am.
And I accept it and don't keep trying to be who I want to be and beat myself up when I can't.
Of course we need to reach to be the best we can, and I try. Very hard. And I used to hate myself that I'm not who I thought I would be. But there's no end to striving to be better is there?
There's no end to thinking 'I could do better'. And that's a cycle we're trapped in.

But it's okay. Because sometimes, once in a while, I need to let go and feel like I'm good enough.
That I deserve all I have and all that I get.

Because at the end of the day it doesn't matter how many degrees you have.
Or how you're going to change the world with your intellect.
What matters is being a good person.
Now I know.
I remember that I am a good person, even if I'm bad at everything else.
And sometimes, that should be enough.

Today, I am ready.
I realize I may not be, all the time.
But that's okay, because today I am.
I am happy, and I know I'm enough.

Melancholy

The skies are overcast. The wind is chilly.
Sometimes, it drizzles.
You forget it was spring. It is cold.

Grey. Darkness creeps up.
Melancholy evenings.
It is so silent I can hear my mind talking. Almost.

The time has come.
I am crashing like a wave when it hits the sand.
Rising, rushing, faster and faster.
To fall again and crawl along the earth.

The sound of my heart breaking.
I am crumbling again.
The pain is physical. Like my body is protesting.
My bubble has returned to surround me.
It wants to protect me but it holds me still too.

So I lie still, where I am.
The pain traps me there. My tears are trapped too.
I drift in and out of consicousness.
My mind awakes, slowly, taking baby steps.

Quietly I breathe.
A mishmash of songs spread out to cover the silence.

I dream of starry nights.
Someday.
On the grass. Summer night breeze.
Breathing into the vast sky.

Footsteps. Voices.
Laughter. Music. Smiles. Pleasure. Silence. Peace.
Fulfilment.

One day, I will forget the pain, the collapsing of my being.
One day, I will be whole.
Sometimes I can only dream. 

The invisible life

We walk among you wearing masks of sanity.
But we, really, are invisible.
We are lost, we have faded.
Our shell remains with faint memories of who we used to be.
You do not see us, you see our shell.
You do not look back.
You are convinced by our hollow act.
You do not see beyond the mask we wear.
You are fooled, we have succeeded.
Or so we think, and so you think.
You can go to bed happy.

You ask us how we are and like robots we spout what we've been taught.
A few lines we've been programmed to output randomly.
'I'm fine, how are you?'
'Lovely day isn't it' , 'Oh yes, wonderful weather'.
We are not fine and we do not care about the weather.
We do not care about anything.

You walk away.
We have won and lost at the same time.
This game we play, day after day.
We try to make ourselves visible, but we're afraid.
We're afraid of you and we're afraid that you will be afraid.
You see Jekyll, we hide Hyde.

But today, I will tell you who we really are.
It is time.
It is time for you to know that we exist and we walk among you.

We are the invisible people.
I will tell you about the invisible life we lead.
Take off our armour of 'normal' and maybe you will see, if you watch closely.

We are not alive. We simply exist.
We were alive once.
We are crumbling.
We are dying inside, hidden away in dark prisons no one can see.
Nothing penetrates the fortress we are trapped in.
Nothing goes in. No Joy, no Beauty, no Love.

We are gasping for air where there is none.
We are drowning, struggling every moment to stay afloat.
Struggling, fighting to live.
Except we tire of swimming through this endless ocean, of breathing.
And we wonder, is it worth it? Existing? Like this?

We are overpowered by demons screaming inside our head
All the time.
This constant noise telling us we shouldn't be here
That we have no place
That we do not belong.
We are condemned. We are powerless.
We are shackled to these demons.
You say, why don't you set yourself free?
Because these ropes that tie us are invisible.
We cannot see them. How can you escape from an invisible prison?

So day after day, we let the demons live with us.
We try to run, but everywhere is a dead end.
They eat away at our minds.
Sometimes they kill us.

We scream, we cry, but you cannot hear us.
We are invisible.
When you hear us scream you walk away in fear.
Maybe, once, you hear and you try to help
You unlock the prison gates but you cannot release us from the demon.
Then you run.
But when you go away, we're bound tighter.
We're punished for our attempt to escape.

So we stay, underground, invisible.
In those dark dungeons.
Tortured. Scared. Hurt. Alone. Exhausted.
But this is every day for us.

You cannot see us.
Because above the dungeon is a blooming garden.
All you see is the sunshine and the flowers.
We are waging war down below.
You miss the signs of struggle.
You don't notice the rain and the withered, dying flowers.
You can't see the graves.

You think it's easy, you say it's all in our head.
Yes it is, but it doesn't mean it's not real.
Just because it's invisible it doesn't mean it isn't there.
It only means that you cannot see it.
You do not know.
We reach out in desperation.
Frantically. We want to live.
But you cannot see us waving our hand.

When you begin to see who we are
You abandon us, you ignore us.
You do not understand us. You do not try.

But we hope for another day.
Another chance to survive.
Another chance to be seen. Another chance for you to join the army against the demon.
Because if you stay, we can fight.

We need help. We need you to open your eyes
See that we want to live, like you.
We want to feel. We want to be alive. We want to survive.

Don't tell us. Don't tell us what to do.
Because we have tried. We have done everything.
We are not stupid. Some of us were brilliant when we used to be like you.

We are right there in front of you.
We are invisible because you do not want to see.
We want you to see. We don't want to live this invisible life.

We hope for another day.
Another chance to be resurrected.
Another chance to be seen.
Another chance for you to join the army against our demon.

Because if you stay, we can fight.
It will be hard, but maybe, one day, we can win.

And even if we don't kill the monster, half the battle is won.

Some Days.

Some days, once in a while, I feel great.
Maybe because the weather is just right. A little bit of a chill. A little cloudy with just the right amount of sunlight.
Maybe because it's one of those elusive good-hair days.
Maybe because I slept as much as I wanted to.
The sky is a cool blue-white.
The cherry blossoms will be here soon.

Sitting outside with a cup of tea. It's quiet now because everyone has gone home for spring break. It's me and the breeze and tea and silence. The occasional squirrel on the tree.

For a long time, I've forgotten who I was. Lost everything I used to be. Forgotten that I used to love to spin moments into words, words into pictures, pictures into stories. The writer, the artist, the musician, the scientist. All faded away. Some days I was a wisp of smoke, barely existing.

But here I am, and today I'm great. I know I'm more than just a shell. And I want the world to see that too. I don't need to hide, not today. Because through my words, if nothing else, I am powerful. I exist.

It will take a while to find myself again, I know. But that's okay because I have hope that I'm getting there. The fact that I'm writing at all is evidence of that. As of now I need to figure out how to make the most of a good-hair day.