There is so much in me that is saying give up and as much
as I have that dreary voice saying that, I have a little bit of a hopeful voice
screaming at me to carry on. A voice that I can never seem to fully shut out. I
do not know whether this is a form of depression, but I will not dwell on that
state because I do not want to use that as a form of describing my downs seeing
as it is an important factor in our society. One that is not yet fully grasped
by everyone, especially our parents, because it was not taught to them the
understanding of the illness itself. Not to digress from the fact that they did
not give themselves a chance to learn about the illness itself. However, I do
realise that it also our generation’s greatest battle; that of having to explain
the importance of knowing that such an illness is amongst us and that of
understanding that we are the generation that is most affected by it. We are
the generation that suffers most from this shameless illness. An illness that
comes with a lot of baggage – being anxiety, bipolar as well as PTSD.
I will not lie and say that I do not have any of those
illnesses, because as I am typing this out, I am typing it out with a heavy
heart. A heart full of sadness and shame towards myself. A heart that wants to
just be filled with love to share amongst the world but only limited to feeling
the way that it feels right now. A heart that will not openly admit to needing
help, because it has so much pride and honour. A heart that wants to just give
up and let go of everything that it is holding onto. A heart that wants to just
cut every bit of string that keeps it from falling and shattering into pieces.
Pieces that will most certainly hurt those around me the most. Pieces that will
be used to hurt those that have been wanting to hurt themselves. Pieces that no
one will ever want to glue together and piece them to the perfection that they
were before. Why? Why not. Why not just leave the pieces like that? Why not
just let things that do not want to be fixed, damaged and imperfect as they
are? Why not let go of what needs to be let go? Why not give up on what does
not need saving? Why? Why? Why?
All of these are questions that linger in our minds daily, I
can attest to that because I think about them all the time. The kind of
questions that need to be asked but can never be fully answered to the depth we
want them to be in. But I guess that’s how life works. you end up being in a
constant swirl of missing pieces of your life and you must find a way to work
through that or work with that. A whole, a darkness of nothingness and not
knowing anything because something is always missing or will always stay
missing. The feeling of never being good enough or never fully reaching your potential.
It’s a puzzle. An infinite number of puzzle pieces, that we will keep trying to
piece together until the day of death. We just hope that one day we can be happy with what we have managed to piece together and make of the puzzle.
