floating | ✓

39| wounds

I left the lake today. I am not going back there. I have no reason to. It is the only place where I allow myself to be weak. I won’t be weak anymore. I will never go back there again.

As Mom talked about me being a little child, it reminded me of the dreams I had when I was young. The little me was quite a girl. She was smart and quick, she had big dreams and she was determined she would take over the world one day.

I owe a lot to her. She deserves better.

The most important conversation you can have is the one you have with yourself. I keep telling myself I am strong. Then I allow myself to let go and sabotage myself.

The lake was the place where I gave up. Every time I go there, I am reminded of the fact that I can give up again. I have that choice.

No, I don’t. Letting go isn’t a choice for me.

I have seen the end. I have learned to fight again, and I won’t give up. I have promised that to myself.

I won’t keep going back to the place that reminds me of my failure.

I look at my fingernails. They look pretty. I blow on them, and I start applying the same color on my toes.

I made my way from that day to here by telling myself again and again that I can do this. That I am strong.

The thing is, if you keep telling yourself something that you don’t believe in, someday you will start to.

If you keep telling yourself you are ugly, you are weak, you are worthless, you don’t deserve it, you want to give up—you’ll believe it.

So why wouldn’t I try telling myself the opposite?

All of these are the thoughts inside my head, good and bad.

If I can repeat my self-sabotaging thoughts again and again, then maybe I can repeat the opposite words every day as well.

I am telling myself that I am okay. I am fine. I am better. I can do this. Again and again. Again and again. Until I end up believing it.

Until these sentences become the truth for me, although I don’t believe in it now. Although sometimes I hate lifting myself up, I hate being the only person I can turn to, being my only friend.

That is the truth: I am my only friend.

I only have me. I can either be my enemy, or be my friend. It’s my choice.

I choose not to let myself down. I choose to try to accept who I am and love myself the same way I love others.

It sounds corny. It sounds ironic. And most of all, it sounds impossible.

But it is the only choice I have.

I already know I refuse to give up.

*****

Winter break is hard, I am not going to lie. I wish I had more work to do. Christmas comes and goes. I get gifts from both Mom and Dad. I call Sam. He sends me virtual hugs. Insert an eye roll here.

I finish all my homework. As I have nothing else to do, I study in advance the topics we will study when school opens. I reread some books from my bookshelf. I buy some new books.

At night, when I go to bed, it gets hard. Some nights I can’t fall asleep. I need to get away. I need something to do when I can’t sleep and my thoughts get louder. Some days, it’s just easier to let go than fight. I get tired.

Then one day while going through my laptop, I find my old file of novels. I started writing it, and I never finished it. I left it midway. I think about the words I have written.