Despite all my good intentions I spend another day in bed, trying to get myself to work. Occasionally doing something.
Telling myself, that I’m just about to start.
Telling myself that everything will be okay.
Telling myself that I can’t be later than I already am, that I can’t make things worse.
Telling myself, from tomorrow.
I will be who I want to be from tomorrow. I will put the needed effort in from tomorrow. I won’t think of the past from tomorrow. I won’t let it affect me anymore.
I’ve been living in that lie for the past month.
Hell, I have been living in it for the past 2 years, occasionally rising above it in enough height so that I can finish well my exams for bachelor’s degree, or start my own online store.
How much longer can I live in a lie?
The problem is I have gotten so comfortable with it I almost don’t notice.
I think a while back. I chose what I wanted and pushed my faith. I made myself a person I wanted to be. I grew my faith to be undeniable, unstoppable. After having a bleak number of years in high school, not liking who I’ve become, I grew above it, I chose for myself. Enough to believe I can succeed in anything if I chose.
Yet, here I was. I went to another country to make more money for my future. I went there feeling like a god. I could do anything if I put my mind into it, and give it all I had. I gave it all. I gave it more. I gave it all day by day by day in the middle of getting fired, searching for job in foreign country in the middle of a crisis, running out of money and people to turn to, seeing addicts and homeless people and things I had only seen in movies, and being raped. I gave it my all in spite of it.
And at the end of these 3 months I had burned out.
I had nothing else to give to the world or to myself. So I bit my tongue, put my chin high, and pretended I’m okay. Didn’t work for long. By the time I went home, a month later, I was feeling anything but a god. I felt like a ghost.
With all my precious knowledge, I couldn’t stop anything from happening. And what were looks good for if they got me to such low point? What was my creativity for if it couldn’t stop me from staying without a job for 6 weeks and barely getting by? I felt defeated, not knowing anymore what was the purpose of knowledge or striving for something.
For many people, I’ve read, rape results in loss of trust, faith, intimacy. For me, it most significantly resulted in the loss of independence. I made a big decision for a first time in my adulthood without the approval of my friends or family, being sure I was making the right choice. I tasted freedom and it left bitter taste in my mouth and night after night waking with the desire to scream.
I had reduced 3 years of college and 21 years of living to nothing. To a summer away that broke everything I was. I felt lower than anything. I felt like ghost, but I couldn’t define how.
Now, when I almost graduated, when I’m a step away from a new life…now, when I’m in a happy relationship, and have finally reconciled my relationship with friends whom I alienated before, now when I see I have a future within my reach and control, now I feel like a ghost more than ever.
I can see everything I have and appreciate I got so far.
I can see what I can have with just a little effort.
I can see, but I can’t touch.
Like one of those Greek tortures from the legends where they make the person pour water into something that doesn’t have base, so the water goes out again, and they have to fill it for eternity.
I have a life within my reach, only it’s like a dream on the horizon, that me, addicted to dreams, and lost hope in them, know I shouldn’t touch. I’m afraid if I touch it the picture will disappear and I will have nothing. That the nightmare I’ve been in for a summer will last a lifetime and I can see the life I dream about but I cannot touch it. For a first time in 2 years I have a lot to lose, and I can’t seem to take the pressure very well.
I want to take step forward, I do.
I know I have done it before, and that helps me hold on to something, but not in moving.
I want to take a step, I just can’t figure out how.
Or maybe I’m simply too afraid.
Unfortunately, the last result is the same. And feeling lousy about it, or myself, is just as empty and gives absolutely no result, but burning me more on the inside, when I have just started healing the burns from the last time. All I can do is let this day go.