I've been... a mess. For a long time. Longer than I'm brave enough to admit. Longer than I let myself realise. And yesterday, I experienced what I can only call divine revelation. -A sense of relief, of release, and for the first time in what feels like forever: hope.
And maybe you don't need to know this; maybe it won't change your life knowing that I've been living in darkness deeper than I could bare to risk escaping; maybe it's not going to affect your day knowing that I finally feel like I can breathe again. But today I realised that doesn't matter. And though I am so desperate for my every action and interaction to be significant, to change the world or a life; I realised that I can love you, and want to make you proud, without losing myself in an attempt to be perfect for you.
I write. That's what I do, always have. Not because I think I have a particular talent or because I feel I have something profound to say. I write to survive. Perhaps self-indulgent, perhaps wise; but liberating all the same. I haven't been sure of anything recently, but today I am sure that this is the only way I'll cope. Whether I wake up in tears or raring to face the day, I will learn something new, discuss something controversial, meet someone fascinating, consider a philospher's ideas... And I will tell their story.
So I've chosen to write. For my sanity. And in the hope that my words would inspire you to consider the validity of a different point of view, the reality in another person's world, or to confront the truth -even the brutality- of your own.
Also, you should read this. It kinda scares me that I talk to her every day and yet I had no idea we've been thinking the same thing. But mostly, I think she says it better than I ever could. And you really need to hear it.