I haven’t visited wordpress in such a long time, and then tonight I got the idea to check back in and read some of my old posts. And then as I figured I’d try to write something it dawned on me that I am 25.
… And anyone reading this probably read it straight-forward. I am 25. But you can’t do it like that. You have to read it with intent. I. am. twenty. five. 25!
And anyone who knows me, the way I know me, which basically is just me, will know that that’s quite a ginormous accomplishment. (But now all you other people know too because I told you.) I barely believe it despite writing it, and despite contemplating it. I am 25! And I never thought I’d live to see 22. Or 23. I remember writing sad notes, and diary entries how I swore I’d never live to see my 22nd birthday. Not to be dramatic, but because I truly believed that my heart would never continue to beat for so long. It was inevitable that I’d die within a short period of time. But I didn’t only become 22, or 23. I’m 25! And it’s a miracle! Or … I could say it’s a miracle. But then again, this isn’t God’s work, it’s my work. And it’s been hard work. The hardest work.
And this is probably the point where I should say that everything is better now, and that I finally see the light in the end of the tunnel, and that it was all worth it because it made me into the person I am today, and how I did it and bladifuckingsda. But I’d be lying. And I don’t lie. I try not to. The painful truth is better. Because the mask is hurting us. The truth is I still think about dying, a lot. The truth is I still struggle a lot with relationships and believing I’m worth something, and deserve to live and have a good life. There is no light in the end of the tunnel, but I’ve stopped looking at it as a tunnel. It’s just now, and sometimes there’s light. I think it won’t ever be worth it. Ignorance is bliss and I’d choose that every day, even if it meant I wouldn’t be a particularly contributing person in the world or society. Thinking is my downfall. But luckily also what makes me keep going, and makes me untangle some of this mess.
I am 25! And no matter if the reason that I’m awake right now is because I’m thinking of hurting myself again, and of just dying already (!), taking a moment to reflect over that achievement in the light of my suffering the last … in light of the suffering and trauma trough-out my life is warranted. I am 25. I. am. twenty-five. And I’ve laughed, and I’ve smiled during the last four years. And I’ve never felt the love, life and laughter reach all the way inside – I’ll admit that, I’m still “apart” – but I have laughed! And it’s more than I thought was possible.