once upon a time
Once upon a time, I thought my life was everything anyone could ever want. It’s incredulous, the number of dream-states and nightmare-states my life has endured. For some point in time, I believed my childhood to be perfect. This ended once my health issues arose and I soon fell into an absolute pit of despair that I was ugly and letting my mother down and horribly anxious about every move I made each day. I had nightmares about my life and I would wake up, only to be upset I had to go on with anything. I requested to lay in bed all day, every day until I became fat because I saw this as renewal. I thought that would make my life perfect again.
However, this phase in life didn’t last forever and eventually my body had made its point and decided to move on. After reaching the age of 11, I sensed I could create a more normal existence for myself. I clawed my way out of that deep pit and came out seeking other’s approval and wanting to just feel accepted. Unfortunately, this then led to its own road of hardships and I became deeply involved in a negative relationship at the impressionable age of 13. When my parents found out, I was severely punished and tried to commit suicide because everything felt futile. Everything always had so much to do with others. It’s funny, though, I felt happy to die. I was so relieved.
Once this didn’t work, I was forced into a new life and enrolled in so many extracurriculars, I hardly had time to think. This was once again a new beginning for me, I sought normalcy but always remained one step out of its grasp. Everyone else always seemed so inclined to it, why not me, I wondered constantly. I found this period in life tremendously fulfilling and found a spiritual faith I’d never had. I wanted to abandon everything for this; music, a career, friends, nothing mattered. I was deeply embedded in something that felt accepting of me and every flaw I’d ever carried. However, as feelings are so fleeting, so were these ones. I found a new romance and became once again caught up in an older, more mature figure that could tell me right from wrong much more clearly than some big book from 1,500 years ago. I mean, come on.
I went through these ups and downs with men for years. I hid my life that I was secretly building around their opinions and what I viewed as care towards me. I still don’t know who I was then. I don’t think I was unhappy, maybe just delusionally content. It felt fulfilling to be so wanted, it made me feel alive and worth living. This unfortunately all came to a halt when once again, my secrets were revealed and my life stripped from me. I tried to run away from everything and everyone but eventually had to face the trouble I’d gotten myself into. I was forced into counseling as my trust was betrayed time and time again from people that claimed to really care for me. Sure.
And then, finally, something real happened. I was wanted, maybe still not for the right reasons, but wanted in a way that made me feel human. I could be honest and myself and free and wild and continue living without a perpetual fear that I wasn’t enough. This was the highest high I’d ever had in my life and I felt no one could ever take it from me. I thought that maybe, just once, I had some control over my happiness and the consistency I attempted to retain. It all kept getting higher and higher and eventually, I suppose I reached the summit of that mountain.
After the summit, I fell to an untimely and incredulous death. However, is this just another inevitable circumstance?
Clearly shown time and time again, it’s simply about the ups and downs. The highs and lows. I’ve fallen very far this time and now I’m desperately in search of my new peak to climb and summit to clear. Maybe I’ll fall there, too, but I suppose, everything is just an attempt at finding home.