As a day’s duty comes to an abrupt end, as the night envelopes the sky, when scenes come to a halt, and earthly noise becomes silent, all are asleep, I am under the warmth of my comforter, looking straight into the pitch blackness of what is to be my ceiling and a flood of thoughts come rushing to my mind. Some warm friendly memories of the day, or recollections of the past…which eventually lead into self-reflection and analysis of self. It makes me stop and think in things that are best left to be buried, but they rather rise up to cloud my mind and bring a flood of tears to the corners of my eyes…

I wish I could tell you I have always been a happy girl. That I wake up each morning thinking it’s a brand new day, and new things will be accomplished, new successes will be found, but it isn’t. The fact of the matter, is that each waking day is a battle amongst mind and body. I admit, some days are better than most, and things have recently been getting better, but there are those days where I just want the sun to set and my eyes to fall into a deep slumber…to be engulfed by the blackness; yet I lie there wide awake. As hurt and ache comes to a merge, my baffled mind’s asking if this is all real and whether this devastating reality is actually what myself is living in…all of it is sometimes too much to comprehend…

Being born as an ‘ABPD’ I was raised to be rather independent which has benefitted me tremendously in terms of who I am as an individual. I know in front of others I am confident, that I am strong, I can do anything that is placed before me for, I had to do everything on my own from a young age itself. Yet, being independent, being that ‘ABPD’ has some setbacks which is probably the reason for the many battles I have faced. An example being open communication amongst those whom are closest with me…

I learned from a very young age that no one is to be trusted, not even blood. No matter how friendly a persona they put before you and others, they may come a point in life where they could stab you from the back, (of course figuratively). Even if I was filled with a multitude of mundane things to do in the short span of the twenty-four hours’ given, yes it perhaps may keep my attention busy for a moments time, but will not keep me going for long…Hatred, hurt, the brokenness of my frail heart as fate intervened a decision that keeps hunting me until now. Memories with a pleading danger as it tries to play on my emotions, conscious and guilt eating the insides of what’s left of my soul alive..

To shed tears, especially as an expression of distress or pain is a rare emotion for me to emanate partially because they are all used up in the deep sorrows of the night. My pain is for me to bare alone. I grew to accept that at the end of the day, the only person who will be there for you is yourself. A lonely concept, but very true.

I have cared and have loved for many, only to eventually, feel an empty shell of a body wandering aimlessly for who knows what’s next…so as I lie in this bed, feeling a wave of sorrow, thinking of today and tomorrow…I will always have to remind myself that life is a battle, and that I am the lone warrior fighting the hurdles forever alone… Yes, this all seems battered and worn out, but there is really only one thing, one individual that is keeping me sane and still, and it is with this mindset, with those promises that I hold on to, that hopefully, a time will come where I shall throw away the haunting past and dreadful words of the now to start anew…

Featured photo credit: Clip from ‘Annorunaal‘