I used to live for that feeling deeper than sad which was rooted within my core. I’d live just to feel small increments of pain and only wanted more. I used to starve myself for days until hunger burned my core. I used to reopen the same scar on my body until it was permanently sore. I used to abuse a wide array of substances galore. I used to seek out things vile and live for the gore. Now I’ve found myself living for something worth much more.

Something that’s easy to have but easy for someone like me to lose. Something that makes me repent and live to seek the truth. Something that makes me proud to walk a mile in my shoes. This feeling inside is quite hard to describe. This feeling inside makes me feel worthy to wake up and be alive.

The past few weeks I’ve found myself looking back and reflecting. I traveled through time for a moment and sorted through memories that deserved collecting. I looked at who I was and realized our thoughts are no longer connecting. Even though I’m in a different place now I still felt the past needed dissecting. What I found were enlightenments that I was not expecting.

I uncovered that up until this point in my existence on planet Earth I’ve never felt real joy. I thought I had it a couple of times, but being bipolar makes a smile a credible ploy. My life had been spent either admiring incisions or floating in a reality of skewed vision. Sometimes I let the outside world control my weak mind until I believed I was finally fine. It took four months to realize I wasted four years living with a broken mind.

I saw all the pain I caused and it nearly made my heart break. I saw myself nearly numb when the people I loved were feeling heartache. I saw myself awake at night with a mind far from clear. Under covers paralyzed while inside I shake from fear. Fear of the heartbreaks I could face and the mistakes I couldn’t erase. Fear of my hopeless future that felt too near. My heart nearly ruptures when I remember my rejection of love sincere. My heart almost melts when I have memories of how I used to be that young woman who could never bring herself to smile at the face in the mirror.

When I came back from looking at my past I don’t feel proud at all. However, if I’m sharing my darkest thoughts, I’m thankful for the fall. I’m thankful that when I dialed relatives up above no one ever picked up the call. I’m thankful for the voices I hear within me that bicker and battle and brawl. I’m thankful for all the nights I spent sitting numb staring at a blank wall. Everything I’ve experienced motivated me to rise up by myself. All this made me realize there was something in my life that needed help.

It made me think about death through an alternate lens. Made me ask if suicide really made the most sense. Made me think about if I really wanted to die that bad. Because each time I was about to jump, I found myself frozen thinking about mom and dad. Fuck, that point in my life was so sad. All I used to pray for was a night in bed with no tears and just sleep. I found myself idolizing a mouth with a smile like it was a picture in a dream. I just wanted a piece of my mind to have peace of mind for me to keep. I guess something about being close to dying made me realize I wanted to be alive. Because each time I tried to drown myself I found a part of me struggling to survive.

When I was underwater I looked my pain dead in the eyes and listened to its death threats. Belief in things reliable was at an all-time low and the doubts spread out in excess. Regret, repression, and remorse were three hands at the wheel controlling my life’s course. I used to blame the world for my pain and not realize I was the source.

Now I’m over treating life like it’s a boardgame. Over treating each day I’ve been given like they’ll all be the same. I’m over living in embarrassment and hiding in shame. Over suppressing my pain. So I put it in the open and talk about it like it’s plain. Right now I’m only focused on developing ways to acquire personal gain. I feel like I’m progressing fast but don’t feel the need to stop this train.

I’ve been waiting to feel this free and fulfilled for some time now. Sometimes I look down into the void and can’t believe I made it out. There are days I still can’t get used to not having a head full of doubts. I feel like I’m on the right path even though I don’t know where I’m going. Each time I start to feel lost, some signs start showing. I keep letting myself remain guided not by my own plans but by a more powerful energy. I keep listening to what that voice of purity says to me. The way I’ve been flowing has me thinking this feeling is how I’ve always been meant to be.

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