Cause if you’re always putting on a show, you’ll lose yourself before you know.
I laughed. A lot.
It feels like, after seven years of drowning in grief, stuck in endless suffering, and constantly falling back into darkness, I am reigniting my spark.
I finally see a glimmer of hope, but oh, wait… the lamp looks strange.
I open my eyes, turn my head right and left hundreds of times, until I realize I was dreaming.
That dream feels so vivid, like my mind is trying to tell me or trick me about how it feels to live in a happy and safe place.
I don’t know how long I’ve wondered what it’s like to live your life just for yourself. Not just surviving each day. Not fighting a battle alone. Not trying to cope with all the pain others cause. Not to stand back and stay alive for others.
It feels like I never have enough reasons to stay alive when it comes to my needs – always putting others first.
I sit on the edge of my bed, gripping its surface, staring at the ceiling.
Inhale… exhale.
Every time I try to breathe out, the weight of others’ expectations feels much heavier, like I never get the chance to fail because if I do, others will perish.
I look at my palm, then I giggle. Not the kind of laugh that comes from a happy heart, but this time it feels like all this time I was a joke – only a clown who needs to show up for everyone but gets nothing back.
I always thought my life was over when I was 16. That feeling came from post-traumatic stress after facing a major heartbreak for the first time in my life.
My mind still holds every detail. The circumstances, the weather, and even the scent of everyone involved in that event feel so overwhelming.
Honestly, I’m surprised I’m still alive today.
Seven years ago, I couldn’t even imagine making it this far. That day, I tried to end it all – or at least, to escape what felt unbearable at that time.
The ‘high achiever’ label makes people think I can solve every problem they face. It feels like I never have enough time for myself; I must solve others’ problems, as well as my own.
Why do I try to fix problems that aren’t even mine?
Why should I fix something that isn’t my fault?
That day, I found no reason left to keep going.
Even at 17, I had a dream to celebrate my sweet seventeen at a hotel ballroom, decorated in pink – my favorite color – and with a 50-centimeter-wide strawberry cheesecake as my birthday cake.
Sadly, it turned out to be a bitter seventeen.
No party, no cake, just wounds that left me hating my birthday.
Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. I was born with a mindset of “I won’t try to control what’s out of my control,” but this environment forced me to grow up feeling anxious, constantly needing a helicopter view to keep everything in check.
I became a control freak, obsessed with imagining worst-case scenarios. I can’t enjoy my days anymore; every day feels urgent, and I worry something terrible will happen if I miss a risk – even slightly.
The worst part about facing hardships is questioning my faith.
I question myself countless times, “Does God truly exist? Does He hear my desperate prayers, especially when I burst into tears?” He knows I’m not strong enough, doesn’t He?
I believe He knows I’ve suffered all these years because every time I pray, I sound extremely desperate.
I believe He will give me light.
I believe He will lift me from the darkness.
I’m just… I’m just tired.
I want to fully rely on Him, to lay my head and the pain I carry alone on Him. I cry, but no one hears. At that moment, I think God didn’t even hear my tears and prayers.
The person I was on the outside has long since died – the broken heart, broken trust, and broken soul. I also ask myself, “Why? Why keep going if at the end I still have to help others but never get help in return?” I’ve asked this a thousand times.
They say the world keeps spinning even if we’re gone, but the world of those closest to us? That might fall apart.
Again and again, I remind myself that this world is still worth fighting for. Even if just for the sake of those I love, I’ll keep pretending I’m okay. I don’t want to be a burden, but sometimes it’s too heavy to carry alone.
If I give up, who will help those who need me?
It’s silly to be stuck in this toxic positivity I’ve carried for nearly a decade. What a pity. Others may live their lives to reach their dreams, but mine isn’t that simple. I live just to survive.
I don’t know if my friends find my existence memorable, but their presence means everything to me. I hope you all live your best lives, even if one day you’ll live without me.
I hope you find happiness, even if I’m no longer around. Keep living your lives as you should.
Please, stay alive a little longer.
