Maze of memories

1

Your youth is supposed to be the most amazing and care free time of your life.

A time where you can laugh and play freely without any obligations to hold you back.

A time where you develop most of your skills and begin to lay the foundation for your identity.

This is the time where you find your voice and learn about morals.

Then slowly as you get older you learn more and more about the big world outside of this tiny existence you know of as a child.

You learn about grades, work, taxes, and other things that all look so confusing and scary but also exciting.

You spent more time trying to figure out what you want to become and playing with friends becomes going out.

The morals and skills you learned as a kid effortlessly find their place as you keep learning and evolving.

So even if things are scary and new your youth is still the most amazing part of your life.

A time which most people don't spent on worrying if there will be a new day tomorrow, instead just being a kid.

They just play around, laugh and discover new things everyday.

With a promise of a carefree and happy life ahead of them.

Except, what if that happy life was never meant for you to begin with.

What if you were already deemed a faulty glass sculpture as soon as you turned 5 years old?

What if you never properly learned about the beauty of youth.

What if you never got to have a voice or learned the proper social skills to survive in this world.

What happens then?

What happens when a faulty glass sculpture somehow manages to make their way into the world.

As soon as a child turns 5 years old they are required to go to primary school.

There they will further develop their skills by playing and socialising.

They will learn to reach out of the comfort of their home, their family and begin to further the development of their own identity.

As for me I really don't remember anything of that time and so I can't say much about it.

My memories only begin around the time I started my 4th year of primary school.

At that time I was only 8 years old but I had already learned just how mean people could be to each other when you are that bit different from the others.

At that age people write everything of as it just being banter between children, they don't see or rather refuse to see the damage that "banter" can bring on.

You see I have always been different from other people, or at least that's what everyone else used to say.

Even when I was little I used to be a little chubby and I've always had a pretty wild imagination.

My parents sometimes tell me stories of how I was back then.

They tell me I was always really quiet and kept my distance from everyone outside of my family.

At that time I was already getting bullied on the daily and other people just really scared me.

Eventually my parents told me I started looking around and talking to "people" when no one was even around.

I guess even when I was so terrified of people I still longed for the interaction.

I still wanted to be liked and I wanted people to spend time with me just like other people did.

Back then even though I was bullied a lot I was still innocent enough to love the world.

Thinking that what they said and did to me was just to help me better myself or that it really was just for fun like they always used to say.

When I couldn't connect to other people no matter how hard I tried though I guess I just resulted to creating my own friends.

With children this is mostly innocent and they just call it an imaginary friend.

In my case though this was going to be the beginning of something much more serious, something that would be causing me problems for the many years to come.

For all those years I have tried to banish every memory I had of my youth to the back of my mind.

I didn't want to remember or rather, I was terrified to remember.

For the good memories which were the ones I wanted to remember with all my might banishing them worked because unfortunately I don't remember a single good thing about my youth except for the stories my parents told me.

However for the bad memories I did want to banish from my mind this didn't work at all.

You see the bad memories just didn't go away no matter how hard I tried,and even if they did it was only for a short while.

So then there I was with no recollection of any good times in my life and a mountain full of scary and sad memories.

I remember a while ago when I moved and I was searching through all my old stuff that I found an old diary.

It turned out to be a diary I had written when I was eight years old.

In that diary I often talked about how cruel the world was and how scared I was of leaving my house.

The worst part of it all though, is that I was only eight years old when I wrote in my diary that I really didn't want to live anymore.

How cruel does the world have to be for an eight year old to want to die?

How much influence does this innocent banter have on a little kid to cause her to be this afraid of the world.

At eight years old shouldn't I have been playing and laughing with other kids without a single care in the world?

Shouldn't the only pain I would know be the one from falling down while playing or getting sad when you accidentally drop your ice cream?

Instead I had become completely numb to physical pain and at eight years old just faced the pain of being trapped in your own mind full of scary memories.