It’s so interesting to think about how I felt and thought when I was younger. The age of my mind has not really changed, only the depth. Recalling memories of the past is more like stepping foot right back in time to that place. Every year on earth doesn’t build a wall between me and my pain. I think about my younger self often. I realize it is incredible to see myself where I am now. Alive for one thing, but thriving as well. I think about how I managed to fight my way here and how in the moment it seemed impossible. I’m standing in my old shoes, bottle of opiates in hand, ready to end it. I think about this in the present and feel it in the present, it is not distant to me.
I like to think about the moments of weakness like that, to better understand them. I think that in the moment, when you think you can’t fight anymore, the doubting of your ability to fight is the last little spark of life. For me, it’s always been enough to start a fire to see in this darkness. In high school, I got in a terrible car accident, accidentally-on-purpose. I didn’t try to avoid it, I felt content about any outcome regarding death. I lived. That was four years ago and you can bet I’ve tried to die after that, but nothing works. There is something keeping me alive. I don’t want to say fate, but some small thing that’s powerful enough to keep me away from the reaper despite trying to run into his arms.
You’ve felt it too. When you’ve woken up the next day, angry and disappointed, alive despite fool-proof circumstances. Human beings are naturally self centered and this breeds loneliness and ignorance. We forget others have felt the way we do. Maybe not many others, but others. Finding those people is nearly impossible but when you do, you realize after a time why you couldn’t have died then. It makes you regret having wanted to leave and shows you that your survival was no accident.