Surrounding yourself with friends can only keep you so happy. You can’t be around them 24/7, if your happiness depends on them being alone will feel like a bitch slap.
A week or so ago, I went to Starbucks to get some homework done and at one point I just felt wrong, my mind wasn’t focusing and my heart was telling me something wasn’t right. At the time I was listening to one of my podcasts, they were sharing the story of a man, who struggled his whole life with his sexuality, drugs, alcohol, and suicidal thoughts, to the point he tried to kill himself, and it hit me so hard.
I felt grateful. I realized the thought of wanting to actually die had never crossed my mind, no matter how sad, how heartbroken or how lonely. “Wanting to die is hitting rock bottom” I told myself but then I thought “Well, everybody’s rock bottom is different, I am so scared to die… Is dying MY rock bottom?” no. It isn’t. But hurting myself is, I used to cut, never deep enough to bleed but enough for people to notice because I didn’t know how else to show someone I was broken, verbally? impossible, i didn’t talk about my feelings, no one in my house did. You were to keep your feelings to yourself and to never shed a tear for crying was weak and pointless.
Older me knows crying is important. I know I have to get it out of my system.
Anyway. That night I left Starbucks I realized how deeply broken I was – I seeked validation from everyone, I was never good enough, I felt ashamed of so many normal behaviors my parent had tagged as “weak” or said I was “doing it because of a boy”, and now when I tell my friends to “give me looooovveeeee” like a child asking for ice cream, I would slash back at them with hate almost immediately. There’s so much more that scared me as a child, but I won’t go in detail, I will let you fill the blank with your own story.
I know I am not alone, but I do believe my experience was a bit different.
People constantly asked me “how are you not broken?”, “how do you manage to be ‘normal’ teen?”, “how haven’t you lost it? if I were you I would be alcoholic or a drug addict by now”. I would just tell them I didnt know, that I felt fine.
But turns out I’m not fine, I am broken, Art is my alcohol, social media is my drug. I’m not a ‘normal’ teen, but then again… who is?
Art felt wrong to me, my chinese parents told me art wasn’t a real career to persue, hoping one day I would pick something more traditional. Luckily they came to sense (or maybe they just gave up) and are allowing me study arts.
But I’m not fixed, I can’t fix my past, I can’t fix the broken child I carry… But I can heal and maybe someday I won’t feel so broken. That day is not today. But one day it will be.