Memories

I once read a novel which described memories to be that of something obscure. How in the moment, something so miniscule can become something you will never forget. I know myself personally cannot remember what I had for dinner, but I could tell you the song that was playing as I drove for the first time after driving. (What’s up – 4NonBlondes, if you care).

Sometimes I like to reminisce about certain points in my life and other times I wish to forget. I wonder the true purpose of memories from seemingly insignificant moments in our lives. I blame the world but I also thank the world. Memories are stories and not in the sense that we get to share them with others. Memories are our stories. Where we can delve into them from the beginning and see what comes of it. Memories are a process both scientifically and mentally. Without the process of memory, I think I would have a hard time coming to terms with many things within my life.

The Past is the Road to the Future.

I believe you never truly realise what you have until its gone. Cliché I know. Looking back to where I was before I was here, I think of all the things that I would have missed if I gave in to my battle. I would have missed meeting some of my best of friends, missed watching my favourite book in theatre, missed meeting the new family members. But most of all, I think of the things I took for granted; the heat that hits you once you step off an airplane, the smell of summer, getting drowned by the rain. Putting all these things together I would’ve missed a lot. And I hate myself for that.

Life is something that is not thought of enough. Although people say they think about their lives, its more the future aspect of it. For me, I’ve thought about how my life started and how its going to end. I always scared myself with these thoughts. Always scared that I was going to die young and that I wouldn’t have the life my younger self dreamed of. Even now, I worry about not having a family of my own, not finding a successful job, not making enough money. I’m a worrier of the worst kind. Where I stress myself out so much over things that are 1. Not only out with my control but 2. Things that are years away. Instead of living in the moment, I live in my head.

Its all good and well saying ‘when I grow up’ or ‘my goals in life are’ but for me I don’t think that’s possible. When I set myself a goal, I hardly ever complete them. Maybe this is due to lack of motivation as most people would say but personally, I think so much about what I want/need to do that I can no longer do it. Sounds stupid, eh? For example, if I need to clean my room and I tell myself ill do it tomorrow, I will in fact not do it tomorrow. Or if I have dishes to do, I can’t do them. (They’ve been there for two weeks now) I’ve always felt the need to have some control over my life and I think my biggest fuck you to life is not doing what I’m meant to. Obviously, this has its cons. When it comes to actually getting something that needs to be done, I do it. However, I won’t be happy about it and will probably scream ape shit about how boring or how annoying it is.

When I was younger, I didn’t really understand this part of myself. Which I think is the reason I was so harsh on my younger self. I hurt her in more than one way and I thank god every day that I kept going for her. Because now, looking back, I can see her there sad and alone and thinking that her time might be coming to an end. And I feel like I was responsible for her in a way to make her feel secure and safe but all I did was hurt her. I like to separate body from mind and physically I ruined what I had. But each morning when I wake up, I thank above for getting me through what I did. I don’t believe in god but something or someone was watching over me.

Now I have realised who I truly am and how I think. I used to worry about what others would say and I wouldn’t speak up. But now, I am proud. I have came a long way and understand that I am who I am and I can’t change that. The way my brain works is different, she’s unique. In a way, she’s a pain in the arse for some of the nights she puts me through, but this is also the same mind that saved me. That taught me life is worth living and made me grateful for all I have. I used to be afraid to speak up about my battles but now I own it. Not to brag but I’m a fucking class A survivor for whatever the fuck went on when I was younger.

I wish she could see me now. How I hope she’s proud of how far we came. But for however bad and lonely it was, I wouldn’t change a thing for the world. I am the person I am today because of what I went through. And I did that by myself. Not a single soul knew exactly what was going on and well fuck me if I truly understood it either. But at the end of the day, I worked hard to get where I am now and I’ll be damned if anyone says any different.

Life fucks me over every day. Every day I wake up, I’m a new person. New in the sense that each night I go to bed, I never know what I’m waking up to. I think this is, in a way, an exciting journey. Depending on how I wake up I suppose. But each day no matter what, I know I wake up grateful for what I have. And the best thing about all this, I fucking love my life.