This isn't like the other dark times where I think of completely disappearing from this world. This isn't like before where I resort to thinking dumb ways to die. This isn't the time where I feel completely hopeless.
I feel so many things at once. But for the first time since forever, I noticed the little hope in me to have a better life. I am not just doing the pity party, I am acknowledging a dream. I am hoping for the better days ahead of me. I've seen what's beyond the walls I've built. The plea for anyone's attention and saving.
I still feel hopeless, numb and lifeless...I don't think that it'll be easy to change. I still hate how I am as a person. I still can't love myself fully. But beyond the rising level of my depression and pain, I see the little hope left in me.
I'm tired of waiting for my saving grace. I'm tired of looking and trying. I'm scared that the last straw of hope in me will be put out. I'm scared that in this lifetime, no one will notice how weak I am in holding up my umbrella. I'm scared that I'll vanish without anyone understanding and knowing what I've been through alone.
How hard is it to see and experience the rainbow? Or is it a privilege that I won't ever have in my life? I see the hope but I know that it's weak, and it continues to weaken. And I can't imagine what will happen if that time comes.
Written on sunday, March 21 of 2021...if I still feel this way after a year, I will then accept defeat and my fate. If the fire of hope is extinguished, then I'll keep on choosing to live for others. Till then, I will try harder to keep on choosing my peace and this gift of life.
