empathy

Here’s the reason we all write, and it’s more down to Earth than you would think

Painting by  Mariana Miserável

Painting by Mariana Miserável

 

Writing – to me it’s therapeutic. It makes me understand my situation from a different perspective. It almost never makes me see myself as the ‘victim’. The thing is, when we go through something difficult, we feel the world is against us. (Which darling, it really isn’t!)

You feel worthless. You go through depression(and I’m talking about the kind you start taking meds for) You are so disgusted with yourself you don’t even want to look into the mirror. I don’t mean disgusted, disgusted is a light term, I mean grotesque. You feel grotesque. Your whole being is grotesque. You feel so ugly that you want to simply cut parts of your body. Then maybe you’ll feel better or maybe so that you can just not feel the pain which is internally eating you up. And you start cutting. You try to cut the fat from your body.  You start loathing yourself. You become insecure. You isolate yourself. You stop listening to yourself and you start taking other people’s opinions into consideration. Bit by bit you allow people to take pieces of you. You get pulled into this dark void. You are empty.

It’s difficult for you to trust. It’s difficult for you to communicate with other humans. It’s difficult for you to accept love. Forget accepting love, if you can’t love yourself how can you ever  believe anyone can love you? And if someone’s being genuinely nice to you, you will always believe that there’s an ulterior motive.  Because you believe that you can’t feel, breathe, touch or even come close to happiness.

I have experienced all of this.

I too sat in my bathroom crying with blood smeared on the floor. With scars on my body that I can cover up. With the pain eating me alive. Where I lost all hope. You become the monster you feared for when you were a child. You know, the one under your bed or hiding in your closet. We are our own worst enemy.

I was constantly emotionally, mentally and physically drained. I was the walking dead. I did things because I had to. Everything became mundane and mediocre. Every morning I got up with the thought of “What is the purpose of life?”.

Everybody takes advantage of everything and everyone. No one does anything for themselves. Everyone lives their life-like lab rats and they destroy everything, their health, and relationships all for what… Money? And when they have money then what? Does money equate to happiness? That you destroy everything around you… Someone you love, your family, your friends, your health, your peace of mind, your dreams, your passion? And when you do get money do you think you will be satisfied then? No, with that money you will pay for your health bills.  You’ll try to buy love. You will try to buy happiness.

You cannot change the world. I thought I could. But what you truly have power over is, Yourself. Make the change in yourself first that you want to see in the world. Because darling, the whole world isn’t against you. Life isn’t against you. Because life has always been here before your existence and life will always be here after. If you constantly feel bad things are happening to you and NOTHING good is ever happening. You need to take a breath. And look into yourself. Find what’s missing. Find what you need. And make the change. It’s not easy. It never is. But if and when you truly know yourself that’s what you start changing. It takes time. The best things in life take time. But wanting to make the change is the first step. Peace, love, happiness all the things we constantly look for outside we need to find them internally. It’s all within us. We are the answer.

Even in my darkest of experiences I never lost the hope to live. I always said that’s one thing I would never do. I would never kill myself. Because that doesn’t change anything. My birth mother committed suicide. I watched her burn herself. I was three and a half. What did it bring? More pain. No solution to any problem but more pain. She left us and all of us broken. In pain and broken. I’ve been trying to fix myself ever since. I’ve been fighting ever since. I’ve been fighting just trying to breathe. Just trying to survive. But that’s not the purpose of life, to simply survive. The purpose is to live. To live it to the best to your ability. To live wholeheartedly. TO LIVE.

Every situation in life, the good and the bad always teaches us something. It teaches us about our self.  But when we are in that situation we cannot see it.

This is why I write, just to give hope. Hope that you are not alone. That whatever situation you are in however horrible, you will come out if it. A better version of you. And if you allow time to heal you, you will understand that everything happens for a reason and that you survived and then you start living again.

I write so that you can have a shimmer of belief. Belief in yourself.  Belief that you are enough and you can achieve anything. Belief that you are worth it.  To inspire you in some way not to give up. Not to give up on your dream. Not to give up on your goals. Not to give up in life. Not to give up on yourself. For you to just keep fighting and to never compare yourself to others. Just do and be better than you were yesterday.

I believe in rawness, in honesty, in genuineness and in authenticity. To be so open that you’re vulnerable and it doesn’t matter what people think or say about you because you’re being God damn truthful about what you want. This is what all my writings are about. It’s all me. There’s nothing adulterated about it. I write with my heart and emotions. Sometimes it’s extremely painful, sometimes it’s all laughter. But they are my thoughts. They are my experiences. They are what has brought me here today. Stronger and more confident. And I believe that’s what the world needs to be just more open, more honest, more vulnerable and genuine. Because then what can hurt you?

Submitted to ArtParasites by Natasha Noel