For a long time I was so exhausted of life. My existence seemed pointless, at best. People around me were just spectres that I followed or that went along with me. The very air I inhaled felt like a debt I couldn’t afford to have. I was down. Way down. Somewhere I fear and loathe, equally.
For a long time, the thought of seeing light, a nice night of sleep, a genuine laugh with family and friends and a deep breath seemed unattainable.
Suddenly, everything changed. In a snap of fingers, in the blink of an eye.
I came back from the blackness of my very ambiguous way of seeing and living life and I came back strong. I didn’t expect it, though.
I still feel like I can’t breathe, sometimes.
I still feel fear and loathing deep inside, which I can barely (if even) control.
I still feel like I might break.
But I came back stronger.
(Could I believe it?)
I am here now. And I feel happy. Not melancholic. Not mad. Not sad. Not overwhelmed.
I feel strong. Like the hero I should be.
I am changing and I can finally appreciate what I had to sacrifice.
I can finally say I am proud.
I can finally hold my self as equal to others.
I can be my own hero.
And I will breathe deep while I can.
And be happy.
And be me.