A Self-love Story

Chapter 8

Everything you bury either perishes or gets dug out. So the question is, have your demons perished or are they being dug out?

~Me.

Dear Diary,

The therapy was a disaster and that might lead you to believe that the therapist was terrible, but that was far from the case. The therapist was a sweet lady, whose chocolate brown hair matched her warm brown eyes. She smiled softly at me and introduced herself, but suddenly the walls of the room seemed to close in on me and I felt suffocated. I didn't want to seem like a freak on my first time, so I kept quiet and tried to push the feeling away. She told me to tell me about myself and the only thoughts that kept popping up in my head were embarrassing and inappropriate. I am broken. I don't think you can fix me. I'm a freak. I let my monsters take over me. I am weak and useless. I held my head in my hands and clenched my eyes shut tightly, so no traitorous tears would leak out.

I then lifted my head after a moment and told her that I couldn't do it. I told her that I'd reschedule some other time, but I had no intention of doing that. I was simply a coward. I ran home and let my tears be absorbed by my trusty pillow. Then with tear-streaked cheeks, I let my emotions fill the paper. I splashed it with colours, my brush running swiftly across the paper such that its speed matched that of the tears racing down my skin. The brush made soothing rustling sounds. I filled multiple sheets of paper before I finally felt a little better and then I dumped all the paintings in my room, adding to my previous stack.

I decided to get some fresh air and so I left for the park. As I sat there on a bench, I thought of all the things that went wrong today. I forced myself into something that I wasn't ready for. I didn't speak up when I should have. I should first be comfortable with myself before I can open up to others about my problems. Right now all I have succeeded in doing is accepting that I really do have problems that need to be fixed. But what problems those are, I haven't even figured out yet. What problems do I have? People are repulsed by me, don't love me and will take any opportunity to leave me. But that's what others think of me. What do I think of me? I don't think I'm that repulsive. I don't think I'm absolutely unlovable, most of the times. I don't like the way I look, but it's not like I can change that now. Actually, I think the problem is more deep-rooted, not about looks, but about what's on the inside. Who am I on the inside now?

I am clearly no longer fun and joyful Tia. I am no longer a loving sister, excited best friend or happy girlfriend. Then who am I? The answer comes to me slowly. I am still Tia Jade-Garcia, it's just that I have been through a battle. A long hard battle that I don't even know is over yet. I don't know if it'll ever be over, but what I do know is that I refuse to give up. I refuse to stop fighting. So that's who I am, a warrior. I have scars, both on the inside and on the outside but they are battle scars and I will wear them with pride because it shows that I have been in a battle and it tells me that I haven't lost. At least not yet. And if I have a say in it, never.

I can preach all about my battle scars, but truly accepting all the scarred parts of me is difficult. I yearn to be normal. I yearn to be the Tia I was before. I yearn to have a calm sleep, not plagued by nightmares. I yearn to be sure of myself and not doubt my every action and word. I yearn to be loved, not by others and myself.

Everyone in my life left when the times became trying which is when I needed them most. Then does that even make them true friends? So, all the love I thought I lost was never even there to begin with? Are all the people who left my life, just not meant to be in it? But the truth is, even if that's true, I don't want to be a lone soldier. I want someone always there with me to have my back. I want someone to be there to pick up my broken pieces and never let me give up. Because I'm afraid that one day I won't be able to fight hard enough and I might just...give up.

The chilly night breeze brushed my skin and told me that it was time to go home. I got up and left with my thoughts still a jumbled mess within me. Each thought only made me more confused and scared, but I let myself experience every thought and feeling because surety begins with doubt and everything you buys finds a way out one way or another. I don't want to give my demons an opportunity to get dug out. No, I'll let them enter my mind and heart consciously and I'll give them a fight. I won't let every moment that I'm awake be tainted by the shadow formed by the demons at the back of my mind. I'll let sunshine filter through and make all the shadows vanish. At least temporarily. Making them vanish permanently is my job, although I am yet to figure out how to accomplish that.

How do you defeat the demons that you cannot see? How do you vanquish the shadows hiding in the dark recesses of your mind, leaking into your heart? They say love can overcome anything. But can it really? Is that the solution I need? Is love the cure to my illness? I sure do hope it isn't because if it is, then my chances of becoming okay are slim to none. I have no one left to love me. I'm not saying it bitterly, I'm merely stating it as a fact. It is a bitter pill to swallow and digest, but if I don't swallow it, it is only going to choke me, so I might as well accept it.

So if love is the solution, then how do I get it and whose do I need? My dad's, my best friend's or my boyfriend's? Or is it someone new entirely? The answer lies in the deep recesses of my mind, I'm just too afraid to unlock it. Yours, a voice whispers, but is drowned out by the other loud screams inside my head. Others' they seem to be saying and because the loudest ones are what I heard, I decided to take their advice. I'm going to win the love of other people.

Yours,
Tia.