Naked Truths.

Do you ever have truths about yourself that aren’t exactly known to others but are quite obvious to you? Well, if you do, I do too… Some are always there, like some permanent life fixture that doesn’t change. Others, are new every other time. Without further embarking on the specifics of what type of truths I’m talking about, allow me to share a few of which have been skimming through my thoughts for the past while.

Oh, and by the way, now I will refer to them as Naked truths …hopefully, it will make sense along the way why I refer to them as so.

Naked truth no.1

I don’t think I have friends anymore. Be rest assured that I am not saying this in some search for a sense of pity or sympathy. It is partially my doing that I am not acquainted with others besides my immediate family. I must confess that I am not the most tolerant of people especially if there is not much to tolerate about them. Pardon me for sounding like a bitch; it is not entirely to mean that I am surrounded by intolerable people, I just don’t do well in the area of creating and maintaining relations with others. This is especially when I most often don’t feel like people genuinely do want to maintain long-lasting friendships with me that carry some form of bond. I have had friends here and there, a few acquaintances, but none who have stuck around long enough. It has always been seasonal relations that are a matter of circumstance which is fine, not everything is technically meant to last. All I am truthfully saying is that I have a lot of temporary friendships and they always never feel solid, if I may use this term lightly. So yeah, that is one of the recent naked truths that recently dawned on me. I wouldn’t say that I am exactly disturbed by that truth. On most days, I am comfortable with the little cluster of people I get to interact with every once in a while. I also, as I admitted earlier, feel like a partial reason for this fact is because I don’t make much effort in being a friend to others. I admittedly tend to be caught up in my own mind and nonfunctional life that I easily get exhausted having to mingle with others outside the walls of my life and mind.

Disclaimer:  If anyone who happens to read this first paragraph gets offended by it over the meagre chance that they actually do consider themselves my friend, I am immensely sorry and maybe we can catch up sometime when either of us is somewhat ready to communicate. Cheers mate.

Naked truth no.2

I am a wimp at trying out this thing called living. Like my history may show, I am more of a survivor/ exister more than I am a live’r. Death is often painted in my thoughts as some form of escape from having to go through the day to day agonies of life. Before this turns out sounding a lot like some version of suicidal ideation [probably slightly is], let me elaborate.

Do I want to die sometimes? Yes. Do I always want to die? No. Is the idea of death as an escape romanticized in my head a little too often cause I am a wimp at life? Absolutely.

When it’s hard to conceptualize that life isn’t meant to be easy on most days, I struggle with myself over why I have to live through it. I find difficulty within myself over the fact that instead of simply ceasing to exist, what is expected of me is that I am supposed to trudge through the hardship, tumbledown, pick myself up and move through it with showing just enough weakness, but not too much. In those moments when life has dealt me a hard one, it is usually a strain for my mind to not want to jump ship. It is like my mind, loses all ability to conjure a better way out which is very cowardly of me now as I listen to myself say it out loud. I never said my mind was strong. With my history of things, it is quite obvious that mental strength isn’t exactly a stronghold of mine. I allude to this to why I think I might not be the one to live till fifty, perseverance sure doesn’t sound like a stronghold of mine but who’s to say how strong I will be in the future. With the uncertainty of things, I may as well surprise myself. I may probably survive all this while still believing that I was never quite cut out for it. So for now, I choose not to be too worried about it, at least in the hope that I’ll keep on surviving long enough to live somewhere in my life.

Naked truth no.3

I have mentioned before in previous writings that I have occasionally been a smoker. Quite recently actually, I would admit that I went beyond the limits and became a light smoker. When I started smoking, it turned into quite an enigma for me. It was something I picked late last year and might I say, I arguably don’t really regret it. It didn’t necessarily serve the intended purpose that I had initially thought it would, but it worked for me somehow. I will never forget the first night that I had my first real cigarette. For starters, I considered having my first cigarette mainly because I thought I would look cool, being a female and smoking. You would understand what I mean if I could paint a better picture for you outside of my mind. It was a cheesy reason, I know…no need to roll your eyes too hard. I had thought of it for a while but never did I quite get around to trying it. Finally, when I did get around to doing it, I was alone in my sister’s apartment and I felt like there was never a better time than the present. I might have convinced myself that I needed to unwind and calm down a little, from what exactly, I don’t remember. It was quite the experience and truth be told, I did feel quite calm afterwards. I could have imagined it, or it may actually have worked. I remember smoking that first night in the house on the couch while directly facing the mirror in the living room. I was so enthralled by seeing myself pull out smoke from the cigarette and then slowly hold it in for a second or two before releasing it to the air. Over the next few weeks, I smoked at least two cigarettes a night. It was in those moments when I felt invincible to a degree. Like nothing much could hurt me, as long as I could smoke it away into the night. It was a mild sense of power that I had never quite felt. I liked it. On the downside, I began to smell like cigarette smoke and my lips were turning a shade too dark for my liking. Then over time, I stopped it for a while, picked up the habit again later and now I stopped again. Now, like four days ago, I bought myself one cigarette thinking that maybe my intolerance for it had sort of reduced …I was incredibly wrong, the moment I lit up and took a go at it, I was beyond nauseated, I could hardly stand it. I am still working out what theories could explain to me now over why I can’t in the least stand the smell of a lit cigarette. Maybe, I just don’t consider it so cool anymore.

For now, those are just but a few naked truths of myself. I can assure you, I’ll be revealing more in time. Maybe it could become a segment of mine. We will just have to wait and see, now won’t we.

Is it worth it?? That’s what I’m asking myself right now cause I’m in a bubble that’s pretty different from my normal mental darkness . I’m even scared to say the H word cause I may jinx whatever it is that’s happening right now. For those who may not be following up, the H word is happiness in this case. Not too long ago I wrote about how hard it is for me to understand the concept that is happiness and when exactly one can fully say they are happy with everything that’s going on for them. I’m yet to get there….still have a lot of demons who are allergic to anything remotely good for me, therefore tend to bring out my not so favourite friend who goes by the name Anxiety.

Not to dwell too much so not to fuck it up, I’m at a better place than I usually tend to be. Something has changed that I won’t go into but it’s a significant change that’s been happening for me. I’m so worried that I’m being gullible and naive over it and letting my very betrayable feelings guide me in this case. I don’t sit well with change, of whichever kind. Bad change just sort makes things more aggravated for me. Good change is what I fear most. It tends to have your expectations higher and your judgement easily swayed. It never lasts long ; always just a matter of time before the real darkness makes itself known in whatever good change was happening. So change for me simply doesn’t work out the best . I’m transitioning currently & it’s a wild ride that is exciting, exhilarating and a whole lot more fun than I ever have had on any day. Million dollar question ; Is it worth it?

Someone close to me told me that the world doesn’t know how dark and twisted it gets when I am in my lows mentally. The lengths it takes me to pick myself up from the self induced depression and anxiety I struggle with. That’s why it has me thinking, is this sense of joy & contentment worth it, if at all there stands a chance of me completely falling back to my dark place. Could I be convincing myself that it’s not just a matter of time, that whatever I have going on won’t be my ultimate downfall ?That I may finally have my last straw and loose myself in my own demons if things go wrong at the end. Am I able to pull the plug with my mental state in one complete form or will I be in pieces unrecognizable to even myself?

It scares me. Everything downright scares me shitless. On one hand, I don’t want to not live because I wasn’t strong enough to try and fail or try and win. But I’m also not gonna deceive myself by ignoring the fact that I’m not mentally capable like everyone else. My mind doesn’t function like everyone else’s… Will I need two or three more therapists to get me out of my personal mental hell if I continue giving myself a chance to live without the certainty of the consequences of my actions. I have walls built up so high, you’d think I’m a castle… Is it worth it, peeking out to see if I’ll survive beyond the walls that my mind have convinced me are there to protect me despite being well aware I’m a prisoner instead. It’s a hard risk to take….A very dangerous one too. Asking myself how worth it it is may be the wrong question all together… Maybe what I should be asking is if I can handle it whether I’m in it or not.. ?

The BRIDGE I crossed

I’ll try be discreet… It’s all am trying to be right now…not draw any attention to myself .Today I crossed a bridge. A bridge I never in my wildest dreams ever thought I would cross. A bridge I never thought would be in my life story .I always thought I was better than that….Ironic huh! That I would never have to feel the need to cross that bridge, but I did.

I wish I could retrace back so many steps that I took today but I can’t. It’s already done. I crossed a bridge I should never have. Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would be strong enough to do it but crossing it for me just proved how strongly weak I am. I didn’t fight myself from it even when I know I should have. I didn’t try to stop it, I went ahead & did it.

As I took to crossing that bridge, I lost a bit of myself with every step I made. I could feel pieces of myself detach from me and break a little bit more .I wept for each piece of me that died today on that bridge. I wept for each person who I disappointed for crossing that bridge. I most especially wept for I knew what it fully meant me crossing that bridge. Those tears were my grief for the person who kept breaking as she took steady calculated steps across. I don’t recognize that person as myself anymore.

Finally, we crossed the bridge. The me now, took time to look over at all what I had lost over the period of crossing over. I saw the pieces of me that I will never get back. I saw the once hopeful little girl who thought that despite the little dark place in her mind that whispered to her, she could overcome it . She wept for me, she too saw the pieces that died along that fateful bridge.

Now here we are. More hollow than we ever were before. I walked away from that little girl because she no longer could save herself. I am a shell of the person I was today morning. I never quite understood what sort of peace people spoke about after crossing that bridge ;it sounded absurd to me especially since its not a bed of roses. But I felt it. It was crazy how quickly calm and collected I felt. I thought I was numb before, this calmness took numbness to an entirely different level. I didn’t feel, I didn’t hear, I didn’t think. It was QUIET. So quiet in my mind, I haven’t had such an eerie feeling before that that was that calming. I now well understand the peace that came with crossing that bridge. The whispers finally shut up because they got what they wanted. Through that bridge, I made a deal with the devil in my head and there’s nothing I can do to go back from it.

A weakness in Love 👩‍❤️‍👩

I’ve never been one to show weakness out front to the world.. The most I have revealed myself and torn down my high built walls is on this platform. As I write this, I am for the first time choosing to strip myself of my confidence and let it out that I feel a weakness that has been with me & am not sure if I will ever learn to depart from it. It’s a feeling that has rendered me weak for nearly five years now. I knew I wasn’t invisible to it, I just never thought I would feel it this intensely. Just thinking about it is enough to render my heart beats a little bit fast than usual.

I never signed up to feel this kind of way. I never signed up to love someone who at times didn’t feel worth loving ….but I still did. I hate that it’s not new to you for me to speak about how much turmoil this love has brought me. It’s crazy because it ever seems to me like I feel it dig deeper than before. I’ve seen and felt just a substantial amount of pain just for feeling this kind of love. It’s gotten me so damn scared to let go as well as so petrified to try again. I’ve never really known with this kind of love, but one thing’s for sure, it’s given me a weakness I’m not so sure I like to feel.

Time and time again I have gone in circles about how toxic I’ve felt for just feeling this kind of love. I feel unworthy to even mention the love’s name for fear of the shame it may bring me due to prior cases of having written about them. I hate the constant intrusion of thoughts of them being in my mind just because I can’t seem to quite shake off the weak feeling I get from loving them. It’s been an exhausting kind of love to feel if I’m being truly honest. It’s caused me more pain than I wish to go down memory lane for.

Not too long ago, a thought that I want to consider absurd popped up in my mind …that maybe this twisted connection that was created could have been a soul mate connection. But the little scared girl in me is too weak to let that thought out there just in case I stand a chance of great humiliation for even remotely thinking that my sense of weakness could feel as intensely as I do. “On too many occasions did it feel like loving you and you loving me was a game of tag . In all our time together, I placed the burden on you for me being too scared to acknowledge that I was just scared of being alone. I should have handled that better. But even now despite my light bulb moment, I still feel like I will always fall second to you. I will never be enough when it’s all I ever just wanted to be for you. I have hurt you previously because I needed to build a shield for myself to ease the constant feeling of failure of never being good enough.I am now truly sorry for all those times I strived to make you feel like you had to fight just a little for all of my attention when truly In my heart, all you just needed to do was ask. Call this petty or melodramatic but our relationship was never like any other that resembled ours. It’s what made me feel like we were special…the fact that I had never cared for anyone else before you like I did you. My heart had only ever felt that connected to my mother who was in doubt not a stranger to me but with you, you were in all certainty a stranger to me… And that’s what made you special and loving you became a weakness. Because I learned to love you when my heart was bleeding, torn and felt beyond repair. I squeezed you in a heart built of closed off tears and an immense grief that chokes me till date….and for that, you gained a place in a deserted hole too dark to know the difference between pained grief and being understanding …you built a love that became a weakness for me to you …

As I conclude this mini monologue I just had, I’m not too sure I wanna feel this weak anymore. I’m not certain there is an anymore for’ us ‘…It truly hasn’t been the easiest thing letting go. I thought that if I put enough strength into hating you, it would change how I feel about truly still caring for you.. I don’t wanna put myself up for another feel or sense of loss like I already do now. I just want to be comfortable enough to let go of caring enough to let myself go from having you as a weakness. I need to quit tying myself around you over and over again and finally just slowly and fully let you go. I don’t wish that our story would have been different because then I never would have felt like we were the special duo that we both can agree to have been. I hope that when I don’t feel so weak and so scared, I will be able to cross that bridge enough to be this weak upfront with you.