Unfulfilled Dreams

Today I had a very meaningful conversation with my friend. This article is dedicated to him.

My oldest friend. Thank you for being a part of my life. We have been through a lot. We had our ups and downs but we always find a way to nourish our friendship. I know you struggle sometimes, as we all do. When the dark shadow of the night gets the best of you, here is my gift to you. I hope in those dark times you will find comfort in your own eyes. To help you with that, here are my humble words.

From the first day I met you, there was something about you. At first that was hate, but only because you stole all of my friends. I was so mad that I couldn’t see the truth. And with time I felt it too. You have this gift to make a person feel important around you. Even until now, I don’t know what that is. Is it your silly jokes, which sometimes I don’t get? Maybe your endless questions? Or maybe just your life energy. Honestly, I don’t care what it is. I don’t care what makes you, you. The only thing I care about is your wellbeing. There is no price on our friendship. There is no time limit on our friendship. You accomplished that. We accomplished that.

I know you have been a victim of many bad friendships, if I may call them that. I can only imagine the pain and confusion. They didn’t know what they had and were foolish. They were feeding of your energy, because you made them feel good about themselves. Your gift is a curse too. Only time and experience will help you trough. I believe you enriched my life, as so many others. So next time you see yourself in the mirror, smile. Be grateful. Therefore, that is the best weapon for the dark shadow of the night. Embrace it, but don’t let her define you. I am grateful for you.

I often ask myself where I am going to be in ten years. My answer is always different. Sometimes I am so positive about the future and other times I can’t really see the point.  So now, I cannot decide what my future will be like. Many people that I know went to college and many of them have a degree. Many even have jobs. In my eyes they have done very well for themselves. I would like to believe that they are happy. And then there is me. Lost in this world of responsibilities. Sometimes I believe that I was not meant to reach adulthood. I often reference my life to a book called The Cather in the Rye. If you read it, you know what it is all about. This young man called Holden was not doing very well in school. He had no intention to go to college or anything else. He hated adults. He couldn’t stand an idea that he could become one. Almost at the end of the book there is his powerful vision. He would like to stand on the edge of the rye filed on witch children are playing. As the time passes they fell in to the chasm. That symbolizes adulthood. However he is standing on the edge of the field so he can catch them and they never become adults.

I would really like to be caught, so I could never become adult and be facing this many responsibilities. I know how childish this sound and I know that is not possible. But at least I can dream about it. Never the less I had a point with this story. I was a witness of many upcoming adults. Some have been successful in this process and some not. What I mean with successful is following your passion. In some way, they incorporate their passion with their job. That is not easy, but definitely worth it. I believe they would say that. I know I am still in this process. I am trying to be optimistic. Although this next segment is meant to people like me. People, who don’t really have the best education, but have a lot experiences and are constantly learning. I have dropped out of college, because it was too hard for me. I was not learning. Therefore, I became self-thought student. I am also a student of wellness, but mostly self thought. I read a lot and I go to different educational seminars. I don’t have a job. Honestly I wasn’t looking for one. But I do have two jobs as a student. From Monday to Friday I work in archive office. At the weekend I work as a receptor in a sport center. I don’t particular like my jobs but they give me experiences and steady money so I can pay of my student loan and get my license. Just like many of friends I don’t feel fulfilled with my life. That is probably because my job is not connected with my passion. Would I feel different if it was? That is something Simon Sinek gave me to think about. He is motivational speaker, marketing consultant and so much more. I have listened to one of his speeches about Millennials. That is a generation who was born after 1984. At that time those parents had different approach to parenting. Those were somewhat peaceful times and that changed many things. People started to be more protected of their children. That could be because they haven’t been as a child. Parents were less strict with their children in a sense of wining. Of course grades and school were now more important than ever. Something huge has shifted. Children were getting rewards even if they were last at competition. They were encouraged and appreciated no matter the score result. There is nothing wrong with that but it did something that is happening with this generation right now. By the way I am this generation. So all of the sudden children are told they can be whatever they want to be. They just must work hard and the result will speak for itself. So there you have it. A little girl is now wondering what she wants to become. She doesn’t really know how the world works but she doesn’t have to, right? Why should a little child know how cruel the world is, if she can enjoy now and worry later. I believe that is how parents were thinking and still are. I speak from my own experiences. As a kid I was beaten quite a lot from my parents.  My grades were very important to them. However, no matter the pain and disappointment they always said I could do whatever I wanted in life. I always had this gut feeling I have to make an impact. An impact on this whole world. Which is a very hard thing to do for a little child. But it was there. This idea was growing inside me. I wanted to change the world in so many different ways. And when I saw my dreams in this realty I was dishearten. Devastated. I lost all of my hope for humanity. That didn’t happen in one day, but it took a couple of years. I wasn’t making any impact in this world, not even on my closest friends and family. I was nothing. I was worthless. All these years I was told I could do anything. They never told me how hard it is to do actually do what you want in this world.

I remember as if it was yesterday. Emptiness and at the same time pain. Cold covers the whole body. I am paralysed. I cannot feel a thing. Tears unstoppably run down my face. There is darkness around me. I feel fabric on my face. I hear music in the back. I scream. Still crying. All I feel is unstoppable pain, which origin I do not know. I feel alone. There is no one around me. Nobody knows where I am. Nobody knows that I am lock inside my room. No one knows I am crying my lungs out inside of my own closet. No on hears my scremas.                Numbness. I know you. I have felt you before. I cannot resist you anymore. You have me. She leads me. She covers me completely. I want this to end. I cannot take this anymore. End this. This is not pain anymore.

I take scissors from my desk. They are open. I press them against my skin. There. I press harder, still nothing. I press even harder and there it is. My first cut. I feel pain. Finally. I see blood. It is slowly coming on the surface. I feel. I feel pins and needles and burning pain. I stopped screaming. Again. I press scissors on my skin. Again, and again. I feel. I just feel. My heartbeat is lower.  I am starting to calm down. I feel like a heroin addict. Now I am just watching my cuts. I am just watching little drops of blood sliding on my arm. I am just watching and waiting for blood to set. First five cuts were made. I let out my numbness. I am calm now.

It is time to wash my hand. It burns but I feel unbeatable. I fell asleep. Morning is different. I get up easier. Nobody knows about my secret. This is my cure. Day goes by and poison gathers. When I am home, there is time to let it out again. What a feeling! This is my shot! This is my cure! Blood runs and with it my emptiness. It is gone! Deep down I know she will came back. Because tomorrow is a new day and I don’t want to start it.

I do not count my scars anymore. Many of them rest on my hand. It became my drug. I feel my body craving for the pain. Any stress is good enough reason to lock myself in the room. However, it is not the same anymore. I feel pain although I know I should stop. It was my crutch and now I don’t need it anymore. Now I feel. Even though it’s sadness, I feel it.

I still carry you. I still feel you. I thought you left me. I forgot. That is all.

I never told you my story. At least not in the right way. My scars were not revelled, because I am still scared. Of judgments of course. I need to tell you my story. Without any apologies or excuses. I think it is time for you to hear it. For my sake and my peace. It is time to step in to the light.

He who died in pain.                                                                                           His last taught lays in vain.                                                                               Was that family or fear.                                                                                   Regret or confusion.

What have I done to deserve this?                                                                        Is it my faith?                                                                                                   What is this hate?                                                                                                 It is not mine to spread.                                                                                                                      

Stop my hunger.                                                                                               Silence my pain.                                                                                                  My body ash will became. 

I’m waiting for you to save me.                                                                         Save me from hatred.                                                                                        The only thing I never wasted.

I can't remember a time in my life that sport was not a part of. For me it was all about being in shape and of course a way for me to focus on something else than my life problems.

Football was my first love. I loved that game. My mom never allowed me to train football but I dedicated my whole childhood to it. I played it with my friends every time after school. I was never the best. That never bothered me. What I hated was when people underestimated me. Being the only girl on the field was difficult. When you see judgment on your body appearance and not on your abilities, it triggers many different feelings. For me it was fear, anger and dedication to prove them wrong. I did it every time. With time passing by I was getting tired of this. Always proving I was equal. I thought that should be obvious. I quitted everything. Athletics, tennis, football, table tennis, basketball just name it. I lost my hunger for sport.

Only now, I see the truth. It was never about my dedication or strength. Every time I felt their eyes on me, my first thought was; you are not good enough. You don’t fit in. Their laughter cut through my body and through my soul. It killed me every time. This feeling of not being good enough is my life companion. It gave me most valuable lesson: Only one thing gives you worth and that thing is you.  

It has been a long time now. But she finally did it. She is standing there in front of a mirror. This time it’s different. She can feel it in her bones and toes. Something changed. And she is looking at her nose, which actually is the biggest thing on her face, she sees a birthmark just a little bit higher from her lip, which she desperately wanted to remove. She sees her blue small eyes and they look like they have a story to tell. Her hair is all over the place. She sees her fleckless on her nose and cheeks. And there is her smile. She hasn’t seen it for a while.

She hopes for a better future. Her past wasn’t that bright. She tries, often times. She want to talk about it. The only problem are the ears. Every ear is different. Not many know this. She came across many ears that did not understand. They made the thing even worse. Although she was lucky. She found a couple of ears who understand. That saved her in many ways.