I distinctly remember my younger self sometimes. The confused and scared 21 year old. I remember telling myself I MUST have learned all the things I need to know to get through this.
I remember feeling frustrated, angry and jealous of my friends and people around me. That they had people and things that I could not and will never have. The future seemed uncertain . The faces of men seemed so scary. I didn’t see people whom I could trust around me. Everyone seemed to want something from me in return.
Now at 31, I would like to tell that girl and assure her that things will be better. It has gotten better because you kept trying. I feel a need now to promise myself to enjoy and relish everyday because this is what she fought for. I cannot crib about my job because she worked hard for it. Many days of studying and worrying. Tears late nights. Telling myself to keep trying another day. Plans and failures.
I need to make sure I appreciate the body I have now. Appreciate the people I know. Appreciate the god given path I am in. The food I eat and the home that I take shelter in. I make sure to stop and smell the flowers. I make sure to listen to music that makes my body and soul dance.
When I am down, I don’t allow myself to stay down for too long because it truly is quicksand. It can pull you into the depths of despair so fast without you even realizing it. That place is so scary and lonely. You have to time the visit just right. You can’t ignore or avoid that place and at the same time you can’t stay in it for too long. I remember being in that well for minutes and sometimes for days and sometimes even months. It’s a tricky visit. You can’t time it just right. Sometimes you might leave some parts of you there if you stay too long or find some lost parts of yourself.
When I was 21 struggling to make ends meet and enduring the aftermath of my Dad’s death. I remember telling myself that I wouldn’t let his sorrow define me. Because at that time I could remember the 15 year old self. I remembered the”Cultural Secretary”,”Editor”, topper of the class, “Best All Rounder” and Head Girl Nominee that I was during my teenage years. I remembered the girl I was and about her dreams. That is what drove me. My younger self at every point in my life. The younger version of myself who I begged to fight so that someday I might enjoy and reap the benefits of my hard work. But that doesn’t mean I was the strongest or the smartest. There were always people better than me. Doing things better than me. I remember feeling frustrated about why I wasn’t the Best. But now I see that I don’t have to be a topper or an overachieving individual to be worthy. I don’t have to fix everyone’s problems and be responsible for everyone’s happiness. I remember my younger self being paranoid and always scared that my sister and mother would give up like my dad.
And maybe that is why when I heard my sister’s suicide I wasn’t completely surprised. My younger self feared this moment. My younger self tried to avoid this incident from ever happening. It worked relentlessly to give love and support to my sister but it still failed. My younger self bought her food she liked, the dresses she liked, supported her in her career, talked about boys with her, defended her when she fought with mom and lectured her to take care of her health. But still she failed.
So this is what I want to tell my younger self. That it is not her fault. That none of this is her fault. Not my father’s death or my sister’s. I want to tell my younger self that she must live for her future self yet again.
I will continue to plead with my present self to fight because my future self needs it. My future self will reap the benefits of my hard work today. My future self will be happy. My future self might have holes in her heart from the loss it faced. It may not be whole again, but it will be alive. My pain will not reduce but my future self will be stronger and wiser and it will stop everyday to feel grateful to be alive.
