Work. Work. Work. Harder.

Work. Work. Work. Harder.

Throughout the years, I never knew what I was fighting for. I just knew I wanted a better tomorrow. I simply felt like there was more out there, somewhere in the world, that was made for me. I kept looking around myself, at my peers, at my mentors, at my elders, at everyone, and knew we were better than how we were.

Today, I look around at everyone and know, maybe in the back of my mind or clearly as the features on my face, that we are all working towards something both individually and together as a whole. We are working towards a better tomorrow for ourselves, for the ones we love, for the ones who come after us, and therefore for the entire society as a whole. And, one day, we’ll get there.

The girl who is working to forgive herself for the flaws she possesses. The boy who is working towards an easier life for his family. The young lady who is working to raise her son to the be a better man than the one who left her. The young man who is working on breaking the chains his relatives attempt to limit his capabilities with.

The girl who is studying to get an A on that exam. The boy who is limiting his spendings until he has enough for that new car. The young lady who is doing her best to create a better community in which her friends feel more accepted and supported. The young man who is putting in every hour he can in order to have the capabilities to give his wife and child the life they deserve.

The girl who is attempting to forgive herself for the checkered past she remembers all too well. The boy who is trying to figure out what he wants to devote his life to and what he wants to fight for. The young lady who is simply trying to make the pain of both herself and others go away, or at least get better. The young man who is fighting to survive the health issues he has been facing for countless years of his life.

The girl who is trying to break the status quo and follow her heart’s demands and her passion’s fire. The boy who is working on keeping the blade away from himself. The young lady who is trying to bring a little happiness to almost everyone she meets. The young man who is attempting to keep to himself until he gets his own life figured out, in order to lessen the chaos between himself and others.

We are all working towards something. A purpose in life. A curiosity that pries. A passion that continues to burn. A question that remains unanswered. A better tomorrow, than today.

A better tomorrow, for the futures we dream of, the impossibles that we struggle to make possible, the wishes we all yearn for, and the tomorrow we want to live is just around the corner. We just need to continue working, keep trying, and one day we will achieve everything we doubted was even possible in the first place.


I Can’t…

I Can’t…

As much as I wish to help you through all the ups and downs, as much as I want to protect you from everything that is the pain of life, as much as I want for you to have everything that is in your dreams…I can’t live your life for you. I can’t speak your mind in your place. I can’t always be there to stand up for you and protect you. I can’t always be all the help and guidance you need.

I see you going through your days. I see you pushing through all the tasks you need to get done. I see you stressing and worrying even despite all your attempts to stay calm and shrug everything off as if it were nothing. I see you.

And I see nothing but a wonderfully strong warrior who has gotten through all the battles that were designed to push you down. I see someone who is so strong, so intelligent. I see someone who has a big heart even despite all the times it had broken to pieces. I see someone who will go far in life.

I know “following orders” is always the easier path of many. I know simply “listening” to what others tell us is probably the course with least resistance. But, sometimes, you need to fight back.

The world pushes you down. The world tries to tear you apart (from someone, from something, even from yourself). The world goes on and never waits for you to wake up.

I see you walking through your days trying to simply stay busy and neglect everything you truly need to think about. I see you occupying yourself with tasks that might even be meaningless in the long run. I see you trying to avoid the questions that need to be answered. I see you trying to walk the other direction even when you know you can’t avoid it for long.

And as much as I want to help you, as much as I want to see you get through this…at the end of the day, I can’t speak for you and I can’t make your decisions for you. You need to put up a fight. You need to realize that reality will, one day, hit. You need to discover what has been missing all this time.

You need to calm down and look around. You need to fight for what you want. You need to keep walking forward instead of standing still. You need to reach out your hand and grab everything you wish for.

I can’t do it for you.


Onward Ho!

Onward Ho!

There have been so many battles I’ve had to face in my (almost) 2 decades of life. There have been many that were right there, out in the open, while others were battles I fought in silence. There were the ones I always knew I would win, and then those in which I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. There are the battles I walked away from without a scratch, but there are also the wars that left me scarred for life. How many battles have I fought? I lost count.

There are the battles I fought and won, and then those I lost and had to pick up the pieces afterwards. There are the ones I continued for years, and those I simply walked away from. There are the ones I am still fighting today, and ones that continue only in my mind. How many are there? I ask this, what is the point of counting?

From the battles between love and hate, to the wars between good and evil, the fighting never seems to stop. My artistic side fights the battles between resistance and passion, between logic and emotion, between love and war. The student in me fights the battles between procrastination and productivity, and that seems to be more than enough to handle. The side of me that remembers I’m a daughter fights the battles between being herself and living up to the impossible standards of both society and her parents, between the negativity she always had to deal with and the positivity that she still hopes to be. Each and every part of me has its own battles to face. Each and every single battle is exhausting and draining. How do I do it? Well, we all do.

We all have our own battles that we face each and every day of our lives. Whether it be the push and pull towards love and logic, or the passion flaming in your heart and the logical pathway your parents wish upon you, or the forces of good and evil which lie within you…each and every battle is as exhausting as the next. We all fight the battles between living up to society’s standards and being true to oneself, between logic and emotion, and between procrastination and productivity but there are also the wars we must win within.

I fight myself every single day to believe what my mother says about my lack of beauty or what my friends and boyfriend say about my beauty. I fight myself every single day to trust what my sister and mother always made me feel or what my test scores say about my intelligence when I try my best.

I wonder every day if I’m being a good daughter (which I often answer with ‘no’). I question my path in life whenever I get the chance and wonder if I’m doing this “right” (which I often leave unanswered…or with ‘no’). I’m still fighting these battles. I have yet to win them and answer these question with YES.

But there are battles I have won.
Am I strong? YES. You can see that in the surgeries I have faced and…everything I’ve been through.
Am I a good friend? YES. You can see that in how much effort I put into every single friendship I get the chance to bond with.

There are so many battles and wars I have been through, and countless more that I will have to face in this lifetime. There are ones I will raise my sword at ready to fight, and the ones I will simply walk away from. Why? I get to choose my fights.

Fighting Myself

Fighting Myself

A story. The person whose point of view it is written in may not be disclosed. 

It felt like I was losing everyone around me. Everyone was always busy. No one had time for me. I felt as alone as ever. But I knew, because I’ve dealt with depression before, I only felt worse and worse because I was giving into the darkness. I knew there was hope somewhere if I looked in the right place, but whether I wanted to, whether I had the strength to anymore, was another story. I felt useless; I felt betrayed; I felt abandoned; I felt like I was a waste of space.

I knew I needed help. I needed to let my friends help me, since going to get professional help was out of the question. My parents…let’s just say they never thought mental illnesses were real. I knew I needed to let my friends help, but…since they were all so busy and things were…”complicated” to say the least, the people I went to didn’t try to help me. They’ve seen me get through it before. They believed I would be okay in the end. So maybe they thought I could get through it without them. They pushed me off to someone else and from there I got shoved elsewhere, like a dirtbag no one wanted.

That only added to my slipping into depression. I started cutting again. I had been clean of cutting for two years. I slipped a few months before but that was only one. But this time, it wasn’t. I slipped and I got addicted. The pain, it was something I could control. I couldn’t control my best friend leaving me. I couldn’t control the physical pain of my body dying from an unknown illness. I couldn’t control whether my parents got along or not. I couldn’t control whether I had enough time to get all my work done or not. I couldn’t control anything in my life, but I could control the little pain I got from cutting.

One cut, two cut, three, four, five. Soon I was up to ten, fifteen, twenty. There were so many I couldn’t keep track off. Some times I would wait for the few I done before to heal, at least half way, but other times I would cut seven lines on my body without an hour in separation. I lost blood, but it felt as if I was already losing a battle with my own body. Something was killing me from the inside out, something unknown, something…my parents ignored it. Their daughter was dying in front of their eyes, coughing up blood, fainting, and more, but all they thought of it was that she was trying to get attention and she was making it all up.

Of course they would. I learned to add them to list of people who didn’t care about me at a very young age. That’s why I never talked to them about anything. But, faced with depression once again, I needed to talk to someone. I reached out to my best friend. Nothing. I reached out to another close friend. They didn’t know how to help. I reached out to my teacher. I couldn’t get the right words out. Nothing. I reached out, but everywhere I reached I seemed to be grabbing at air. Nothing was ever there.

After a while, I gave up. I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t know where to go. I was a lost puppy in the middle of an ocean, just waiting to die.

I stayed in that darkness for several weeks. I went to classes either as an emotional wreck, or an emotionless zombie (two polar opposite sides of me that would normally work together to balance me out). Everyone knew, even people who didn’t know me very well; everyone knew something was wrong. But, still, no one spoke. No one reached out to me. No one tried to help.

Some of my teachers gave me an easy time in class, which I am very, very grateful for during such a rough time. Others didn’t care. Some of my classmates tried here and there to make me smile, which I am also grateful for. Others laughed. I guess there are many types of people in this world…but no matter which ones I met, no one had the courage to do something to make a difference.

Having lost faith in the people around me, I started to give up on myself. I didn’t believe I’d get better this time around. I didn’t see a route I could take to step back into the light anymore. I didn’t think I would ever feel whole again or feel okay again.

Then…when I hit my lowest point I ever reached, something happened. I looked not around me, not to the people surrounding me, but inside me for help. I looked to myself. I asked myself, are you really going to live like this for the rest of your life? And if you think ending your life is the easiest path to end the pain, are you really willing to give up everything else you love about life?

In those couple weeks, I realized that…I didn’t need anyone else’s help more than I needed my own. I needed to really want to get better, in order to start healing. I needed to stop being so hard on myself for being depressed and for struggling. I needed to give myself a chance to stand back up instead of pushing myself down every other second. I needed to help myself before anyone could help me.

This story doesn’t end here. That’s because this story is happening right now. It’s May 2, 2016 and I am fighting myself to help myself.

Where Do We Stand?

Where Do We Stand?

I want to ask you whether you believe we will be okay once again one day. I want to ask you whether you are hoping that we will come together once again one day. I want to ask you if you have faith in us…in what we have…but I’m scared of the answer.

I don’t want to hear you say you’ve given up on us, because I would never give up on you. I don’t want to hear you say you don’t see a future with me in it, because I would never imagine one without you. I don’t want to hear your excuses when you know your heart wants to say something else, something a little more true, but…I don’t want to have faith in nothing…but I don’t want to lose you.

How is it that we’ve gone through the past three, four years together and now we are growing apart? How is it that our friendship, our relationship, was everything everyone wanted and not it’s torn in shreds? How is it that this, us, you had always been the one thing I knew I’d always have despite everything else I lost, but now…

Things have changed. A lot of things have happened during the past six months or so. It’s been a complicated rollercoaster of events. It’s been torturous, fun, exciting, worrisome, etc. I don’t know what to think anymore.

I always had known, always had believed that we would be okay no matter what. I always had known, always had believed that we would have each other despite everything. I always had known, always had believed that the most important thing to me was this friendship, was us, was you.

But, now, I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting against you. I’m tired of arguing with you. I’m tired of trying when all my efforts have been for vain. I’m tired of getting my hopes up when, in the end, everything goes back and nothing’s the same.

I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know what I want to happen. I don’t know what I want you to do.

I want myself to be okay again, I know that much. I want to figure out the next step in my life, I know that much. I want to keep in touch with everyone who means so much to me…but in this point of exhaustion, I don’t know anymore…

How do you go from wanting something so much that you are willing to drop everything else to not knowing whether you even want to fight to keep that something? How do you go from wanting to always be a huge part of someone’s life to not knowing whether you want to speak anymore for some time? How do you go from knowing you’ll always stay loyal and faithful to questioning whether you want to just drop them and go?

How has so much changed…

I want to ask you where you stand with me. I want to ask you for your honest answer. I want to ask you where you think we’ll be in a few months. I want to ask you so much…but I am scared of the answers to come.

I don’t want to hear you say you’re giving up on us, even though I might be. I don’t want to hear you say you need your space, even though I may want mine. I don’t want to hear you say you’re done trying and fighting for us, even though I might say the same. I don’t want to…be a hypocrite…but I might be.

I want you to be the one who tries now. I want you to be the one who puts more effort into this. I want you to want this as much as I did. I want you to want this friendship too…