Igneous Tales.

Words can be sharper than a knife, and it cuts deep with scars that will last a lifetime. What hurts the most is when those sound waves echoed with insecurities and catastrophe all came from the hollowing corridors of your own heart. A heart that now struggles with replying to the sound of love but manages to speak of only revolting criticisms. Criticisms made by the owner of the body where the heart bleeds and the wounds never stopped.

“Dear young body, why did you quit?” asked the lifeless soul now holding upon said heart and saving its last breath in case love comes back.

“I quit because you stopped believing in me.”

No words were said after. Not even a pin drop was heard but the body now stares at itself. Gazing up and down while the brain generates feelings of disgusts. The reflection holds the resemblance of disappointments that everyone else is speaking about. That’s what you thought. It’s what they said. It’s their words. Not me. I love myself. Really?

As the body stands longer the eyes now focuses on every aspect. Not just the exterior but you passed through the cracks and curvatures of your body. How did you get here? How could one breaks itself this much? How do I fix everything?

Dear body, I am sorry for not taking care of you as much as I should have. I am sorry on days I starve myself or overeat because my emotions got the best of me. I am sorry for letting poison enter you because on some days hallucinating is the only way out of this hopeless reality. As much as I prayed that religion would help I actually found religion behind the drugs that clouded me.

Please forgive me on those days where I let something shiny and pointy breaks the threads of this body. It’s with those wounds and holes that helped me learn about myself and allowing light into this unholy body.

Dear heart, I am sorry for overworking you with free labour every time I let anxiety take over me fully. On those days it was hard for you to catch up just because I was scared of a possibility. If only I would stop asking “But what if?” maybe you would’ve been healthy. Maybe if I stopped overthinking you would’ve been happy. I hope you could forgive me for the times I tried to make you stop functioning fully.

Dear mind, I am sorry for always initiating negativity. I am sorry for the times you asked for change but I never let my body free. I am sorry for being a terrible host for only listening to my heart and leaving your glass filled empty. I am sorry for listening to only unsupportive comments from third party. I made you think you are worthless and so is every counterpart of this body.

Dear me, it’s not your fault. It’s years of trauma and abandonment that made you function the way it is today. It’s those countless hours of overthinking words from other people that tore you apart till this day. It’s those times you spend your night crying not knowing what hurt you so painfully. It’s that feeling of longing not for someone but, to finally feel happy.

Dear me, 

For years I have lived on this planet wandering around the globe as I go through a fair share of my bitter and sweet days, I have yet to understand how does the world work. As the sun brightens up our days and as the moon follows us at night, I always have a question on my mind as to why do people keep on going with their lives? I have asked many who have gone through a lot in their lives yet I have never received an answer that truly satisfies my heart.

I have been battling with depression and anxiety for a good 5 years now. Sometimes I would wake up feeling blessed and I feel like I’m the most grateful human being who survived until this day. Most times I just want to give up on myself, feeling like being six feet under is the only solution to my broken soul. As I swallow yet another pill that I was prescribed to with the description that says it could fix the chemicals in my mind, I get tired each day because in the end I know that these pills aren’t the answer to my complex question.

Growing up in this city, people somehow believed that you feel this way because you’re not religious enough. I have seen people who comes from religious families who prays day and night but still suffers with the war in their mind. Though I do not want to give up on praying, I had a thought that maybe praying isn’t the answer to my question. What else should I do to get myself back together? Spiritual things and religious beliefs could save you when you battle through something enormous that could break you and it helps by giving you hope. Most people use religion to make themselves feel better with a sense that someone or something as majestic as God is listening but, what could really save you when your hope vanishes and  your voice is left unheard?

Another cure to a broken soul said by many is companionship and communication. I too find that human companionship could lessen the pain. Sharing my deepest sorrow with someone else helps in taking off a tiny amount of weight that was being put on me but once they left, you’ll find that you’re battling with your mind again. This goes on in an endless loop and it’s soul crushing. So if you feel better by telling someone your sorrows, what do you do then to cure your soul when you’re on your own? Will you only depend on someone else for the rest of your life?

That final question that I laid down on the last stanza refers to the next “cure for depression”. Love. Many says that life would be so much better when you have someone to share your struggles with. Love is the subject that was said the most that could save someone’s broken soul. Though the idea of having someone who only loves you for your everything is great, in the end it’s just that. Human loves the feeling of exclusivity and being in a relationship fulfills that. I have seen people who become slaves for love and are desperate in finding it.

 We are too focused on this subject that was pushed into our heads since we were toddlers that we forget that we are all humans in the end. If you find that love is your cure for depression then maybe your depression was just a call for being lonely. As you fall for someone let me remind you that the other person you are with have their own struggles and problems to deal with too and as I learned from before, people get tired when you put your weight on them and when you invade their already problematic life with even more problems. So if you think love is the cure for your depression, stop before you lose yet another relationship and breaking yourself again.

                Sometimes in life you will have those moments where nothing seems right. No matter what you do and where you are, you don’t seem to fit in. You don’t feel like anyone understands you, you don’t feel like anyone would want to listen. You are alone. Again. As you reach for the flames to light up yet another cigarette, you stop and can’t help but think. “When will this emptiness stop? Am I going to feel like this for the rest of my life? Will anyone actually be there for me?” As you ask those questions, talking to yourself in your head you realize that no one is actually going to stay. You rest your body on the bed where you usually weep and where you whisper your deepest darkest secret but this time, instead of blaming yourself you seek for an answer.

                  You were always afraid. Afraid of being alone. Whether you’re in the dark or out in the sun, you would rather be left alone at times just because you need to catch a break. This does not mean that you enjoy being alone though. The best times you had in your life are the times you spent with your pals. After all, laughing with someone else is always better than laughing on your own. The scars on your body marks a different story though, you put your trust out and you let your guards down only to be left broken. Humans were the reason you were so afraid. You were judged for so many reasons by these homo sapiens that it triggers your anxiety. Sometimes you try to be your best but others don’t really see that you tried, they look pass that and only see your flaws.

                  At this very moment as I am laying down in a room by myself, I realize that I have no one else but these voices in my head. I realize that if I couldn’t love myself, who else could love me for who I am? My whole life people were the reason I was so afraid. I wore my heart on my sleeves and I realize it’s not my fault for doing that and I did no wrong. It’s not my fault to care so much about everybody else. It’s not my fault I tend to be afraid of loving somebody else. It’s not my fault to be afraid. I have been let down so many times that I told myself, “You should stop having feelings.” This time though I am no longer afraid of my feelings. I am assured that I have these feelings for a reason and if my feelings are wrong then I would accept it with an open heart.