It’s been a good weekend. After months of darkness, life sent me lightening bugs. I’m so grateful. This weekend reminded me that I am connected, that I’m stitched to things larger than myself. I got to speak with and see some loved ones. They reminded me who I am, that I am someone, that I belong to people, that I am loved.
These are the days I cling to on the bad ones. Good days remind me, “you cannot give up”. I want to make it. Truly, I want this to be another victory against suicide. I will likely deal with depression for the rest of my life. That does not scare me. It does not reduce me. I’m not defined by the trauma’s I’ve weathered, but by how much stronger I am on the other side. This is a truth for all of us. Our stories aren’t visible, but our character is– the self that grows from struggle glows so intensely it’s impossible to ignore. One day, I hope glow becomes my language. I want to be fluent in overcoming. It’s not fair– so many things aren’t a fair shake. You juxtapose those against wonderful things and call them a life.
Seeing a good friend nudged me to a truth I’d forgotten in isolation– your twenties are a mess. But maybe being a mess just means allowing the uncertain things to figure themselves out in their own time. I’m 22. I cannot discuss life in such broad terms when I’ve only tasted a bite. When discussing my experience, I know what I’m talking about. I do. Life? I don’t know shit. However, it seems like you get used to feeling uncertain and unprepared. You aren’t as attached to the detailed plans crafted years ago, knowing time is an erratic force.
That’s why your early twenties suck! We’re all clutching these plans of ours with white knuckles as life is prying them away. Part of this, I’m sure, is because (speaking from a middle class context in the United States) society and the government and your parents have taken care of the planning thus far. Most look the same. You go to school. You learn to share and do your homework, and if you have the means, you go to more school that is far too expensive. And after? I’m in the after. I don’t even have a crayon to draw a plan! We have to break our own hearts and embrace a story that looks nothing like the ones we told each other. Even if you get exactly what you dreamed, it never looks or feels the way you though it would. I think we have to stop being so hard on ourselves and each other and the experience we feel like we’re supposed to have. But life is wide and vast and overwhelming, and I believe that there’s room for everything I want to do. Screw that hourglass notion that there is an expiration date to opportunity. Screw that Hobbesian State of Nature that encourages scarcity. I have a healthy disregard for all of it. I’m not saying that it doesn’t exist in some form. What I am saying is that those notions do not rule me. I’m saying that, if I survive this stage in my life, my life will be enough…. whatever it decides to be.
I’m scared for the bad days ahead. Because I know they’re out there. But I know good ones are out there too, and I know they are coming as fast as they can.