for lit

Life Doesn't have to be all struggles.

I usually don't voice my concerns. Not those that are common such as if a deadline is due or i'm tardy for a formal occasion but rather personal issues I wish to discuss but haven't the heart to burden another. Truly there is none that I wish to confess my emotions to instead I opt for an internal counselling session with the hostess being none other than myself. I haven't the notion to splutter lies here frankly I'm not fond of lies. I suppose it has to do with the fact that I was told to at such a young age.

 Having a disability that could be rendered by adding a public eyesore is really a blow to the ego. Throughout my primary school years I believed I had companions now that I look back I was actually alone. Not alone as in I couldn't socialise but much rather the fact that I withdraw myself. Having been asked countless times the same question one would become quite fed up and frustrated and I was. I was angry. I didn't understand why I was the only one out of seven siblings to go through this. I was frustrated to the point that I envied them. I didn't have what they had; I wasn't athletic, fashionable, preppy and i was labelled as a bore. I struggled. These depressing thoughts didn't last long because my mother would sweep them away. Stern in nature and a force to be reckoned with she would remind me that there were others who weren't as lucky and there were others much worse. So when these speculations invaded my mind I tried, so very hard to be content with the blessings I bear and convince myself how very lucky I am  . Still the fleeting sensations of doubt struck and it occurred to me that maybe  I wasn't normal?

Primary school was rather lonesome, I believe I carry those traits within me now. Unable to connect with my generation I'm brushed off in a gentle manner. A voice lost within the gossip of tight knit groups. During primary school you could say it started then, a major turning point in my life where i was expose to the cruel naivety of curious children. Surely older children should know better and wouldn't prod and poke and trail behind you like a lost puppy asking questions and pestering for answers. Alas the young i,  having had enough of the mental trauma broke down. Kicking sand and unleashing the wrath of bottled up feelings of frustration. I hadn't told my mother what happen that day.  She'd been exposed to too much, i didn't wan't to hurt her an i was embarrassed. Embarrassed that i could've been so reckless,  sensitive, so distraught and distressed with myself.  It would've killed her, killed her to see her own flesh and blood, her child, suffering and knowing that she couldn't kiss it better. That she couldn't right the wrong in this world.

This was probably when it started. My years thought out primary-school are much like today. The fear of placing trust in an unworthy foe. The fear of being judged and analysed. The fear of caring for another and your actions aren't clear enough. The fear of everything really but in spite of this I devoted myself to my education. It was hope, a remedy for bitterness and a band-aid for sadness.  It was something that i could do by myself without relying on anything or anybody else.

Burrowing deep within novels and losing myself in a work of fantasy. In the ideal world of another's and with people i could relate to. i would observe them, watch them throughout their journey's like a hovering guardian, mourn throughout their deaths and rejoice their victories. it gave me the artificial feeling of acceptance. I still feel the tug to read, the yearning sentiment 

I still feel the yearning tug of losing myself in a book, as if they were requesting my presence after a prolonged absence...But who has the time and space these days to indulge in such pleasures.

Working towards goals and prioritising  work above others. Neglect. I do it often. I neglect my companions in favour of work or to unhinge the unspoken bond of friendship. Its a nasty habit of mine but I understand why. I cannot give them what they seek. I cannot judge another person based off rumours or from the mouth of another. I cannot push away someone with a desperate cry for help. I try not to judge, try not to act on impulse and try, try so very hand to accept people for who they are. And because of this, i have none to rejoice my academic victories too, none to express my worries or concerns, none to urge me onward and vow to stay by my side. Selfish wants and delusional thoughts that is all this is.

I'm disgusted in myself truly I am and I know i shouldn't fret and be too hard on myself but the feelings of guilt and frustration are plaguing my mind. For the life of me I cannot understand why? Though I know exactly why. I've submitted myself to comparison. The doubt of not being eligible enough, underestimating my abilities. and being of a worthy standard. i submit myself  to meditative sessions and wishing to utter those heavy words dancing on the very tip of my tongue. But i find that the complexity of the mind does not overrule the simplicity of the heart because even if the mind is foiled into an abyss of self loathing, the heart does not flutter. The steady rhythmic beating nestles within my chest and resounds my souls content. My lantern in the darkest twilight.  Yet I know despite the temptations and cunningness of this world, the vile thoughts of envy and hatred that we harbour mustn't inflict damage upon the heart and soul. Because if it does then those beautiful lanterns of ours will distinguish and will only remain a wick in the grave darkness but that does not mean we can never relight. For there are those ethereal souls who won't think twice about shedding some light.  That's when i know that Life doesn't always have to be about struggles."