The Self…

I have come to realize the essence of this beautiful thing called life. See I am no different from the normal human being, my skin might be of a different shade but my soul bears the same complex, but that does not mean that I am not unique because I am. Travel the world from planet to planet and you will find none like me, no carbon copy, no print that resembles that of my own. Years or even months before now you could describe me as mentally dead not because I was retarded but because of the little simple things that define dead. Weak, vulnerable, full of fear and ashamed of m own skin. I allowed myself to be broken, used. I did not understand the true meaning of self-respect not because I gave out my womanhood pride but because of so much more call it what you may please. I was the robber of my own happiness, I denied myself of opportunities to be and do what I really loved, what I really wanted. I loved, I do not deny, and in fact I loved deeply. Funny all along I was denying myself what I always thought I gave myself, the right to be free of any romantic commitments and completely surrender my single-hood to what deserves it. I said to myself, “But I’m just in love and not exactly in any sort of romantic relationship.” But my thoughts and feelings had already gotten me hooked into what I so much feared to lose. My happiness depended on empty sweet nothings. My progress relied on everyone else but me. I was like a piece of paper that you could write anything on and when it loses its use, you could as well toss it to the nearest bin. I allowed myself to be hurt by words eventually drowning me into the traumatizing world of depression. I became a stranger to my own self and poison to my very being. I despised my life and hated every bit of who I was. I physically hurt myself and mentally destroyed the self within me. I don’t blame myself, no not at all, because depression is a disorder, a disease like any other but I can’t stop my mind from wondering and asking questions every now and then. What if everything that happened through out my childhood never did? what if my family gave me that extra bit of understanding? All the what ifs keep on tormenting and traumatizing me day in day out but see I am human and sometimes we fall but what we do after falling is what matters. For a long time I stayed on the ground in the day hiding my face, in the night crying in the dark, my body grew faint slowly giving up on me until I met her. She was everything that I needed. I learned how to love her and embrace her because she taught me how to rise up again and carry on. She was no stranger, in fact, I had always known she existed, I just never reached out to her until she did to me. Her name is mine, her soul is mine. She was the girl inside of me, the girl who loved me so.


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