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May 24, 2018
You don't know me. You've never heard my voice. You don't know my story. You don't know my face. You don't even know my name. But I'm here, and I'm breathing...I am breathing. Think about that. You're breathing too. It doesn't matter how you're feeling, because your still breathing.
Breathing. Oxygen. Air. Trees. Life. Or...no life. Breathing. It's an indication you are alive. Breathing. It means God is willing you to live. Breathing. The one reason why people shouldn't be afraid. Breathing. The one reason we should smile. Breathing. The one reason why the Big Bang Theory isn't real. Breathing. The one reason you should stop asking why?
Why though? Why are we here? It's a question I ask myself all the time. What's the point, if in the end, we all just die. But that's just the point. There is no point, because we're here and we are breathing. We didn't choose to be placed here. But we are, and we are living.
Why am I writing this? You've probably read the title and thought this was going to be some story about how nature contradicted itself, and really, it kind of is. But no, this is how I contradicted the storm. The storm that still roars through my life. Through my pains. Through my fears. The storm, that I created for myself. The storm that am learning to overcome. The storm before the calm.
I haven't struggled for that long. I mean, 14 years isn't that long anyway. But time doesn't take away feeling. It only yearns it. My dad sexually abused me when I was nine. I was nine. I didn't think much of it. All I thought was "thank God I wasn't raped". Then all of sudden, he is sent to jail. That ratched, ugly, abominable hell. You'd think by then, I'd be depressed.
By the time I was ten, I developed lupus. Lupus. An incurable disease. I took medications but the side affects were worse than the symptoms. So... I stopped and I was cured. At least, for the summer I was cured, but it only came back the next winter, and the winter after that, and the winter after that.
It's still here. I know because it hates summer and that's when it always betrays me. It's creeps its way back into my life and decides its wants to be my winter buddy year after year. Now, at 14, lupus isn't the only thing creeping in my life.
Here, let me just give you a list:
* IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome)
* Chiblains
* Anxiety
* Mild Depression
* Acid Reflux
Yes. All that. I am breathing with all that. I am living with all that. Not to mention, my dads still gone, out of jail, but gone. Woosh! Invisible. A ghost. A picture in my mind. Yes. A picture. A picture that's been put on the walls of my mansion, waiting for the tornados to knock it down.
Anxiety. It was probably the worst of it. I get anxious about a lot of things: ghosts, sickness, the future, the devil, life. But its not real. Its fear. I think about it all the time and realize even if I die tomorrow, what's the point of being afraid? What's the point, on dwelling on thoughts about how I feel when I can choose to be happy? What's the point?
What the point? It's simple. I'm here, and I'm breathing. I didn't choose to be placed here, but I am, and I am living, I going to live happily. Yes. I may not have access to a working father. Yes. I may not have the best working body. Yes. I may not live in the most care free environment. Yes. I may not have all that, but this storm hasn't stopped me from smiling. It hasn't stopped me from appreciating what I do have. It hasn't stopped me from achieving my dreams.
So if all that, means just a simple house, just an imperfect body, just a simple family. I won't mind waiting in the storm. Because in the end, the storm won't last, and if it does I'll smile through it. I'll smile through the storm before the calm.
The Storm Before the Calm
May 24, 2018 5 years agoMay 24, 2018\n\nYou don't know me. You've never heard my voice. You don't know my story. You don't know my face. You don't even know my name. But I'm here, and I'm breathing...I am breathing. Think about that. You're breathing too. It doesn't matter how you're feeling, because your still breathing. \n\nBreathing. Oxygen. Air. Trees. Life. Or...no life. Breathing. It's an indication you are alive. Breathing. It means God is willing you to live. Breathing. The one reason why people shouldn't be afraid. Breathing. The one reason we should smile. Breathing. The one reason why the Big Bang Theory isn't real. Breathing. The one reason you should stop asking why?\n\nWhy though? Why are we here? It's a question I ask myself all the time. What's the point, if in the end, we all just die. But that's just the point. There is no point, because we're here and we are breathing. We didn't choose to be placed here. But we are, and we are living.\n\nWhy am I writing this? You've probably read the title and thought this was going to be some story about how nature contradicted itself, and really, it kind of is. But no, this is how I contradicted the storm. The storm that still roars through my life. Through my pains. Through my fears. The storm, that I created for myself. The storm that am learning to overcome. The storm before the calm.\n\nI haven't struggled for that long. I mean, 14 years isn't that long anyway. But time doesn't take away feeling. It only yearns it. My dad sexually abused me when I was nine. I was nine. I didn't think much of it. All I thought was \\"thank God I wasn't raped\\". Then all of sudden, he is sent to jail. That ratched, ugly, abominable hell. You'd think by then, I'd be depressed. \n\nBy the time I was ten, I developed lupus. Lupus. An incurable disease. I took medications but the side affects were worse than the symptoms. So... I stopped and I was cured. At least, for the summer I was cured, but it only came back the next winter, and the winter after that, and the winter after that.\n\nIt's still here. I know because it hates summer and that's when it always betrays me. It's creeps its way back into my life and decides its wants to be my winter buddy year after year. Now, at 14, lupus isn't the only thing creeping in my life. \n\nHere, let me just give you a list:\n* IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome)\n* Chiblains\n* Anxiety\n* Mild Depression\n* Acid Reflux\n\nYes. All that. I am breathing with all that. I am living with all that. Not to mention, my dads still gone, out of jail, but gone. Woosh! Invisible. A ghost. A picture in my mind. Yes. A picture. A picture that's been put on the walls of my mansion, waiting for the tornados to knock it down.\n\nAnxiety. It was probably the worst of it. I get anxious about a lot of things: ghosts, sickness, the future, the devil, life. But its not real. Its fear. I think about it all the time and realize even if I die tomorrow, what's the point of being afraid? What's the point, on dwelling on thoughts about how I feel when I can choose to be happy? What's the point?\n\nWhat the point? It's simple. I'm here, and I'm breathing. I didn't choose to be placed here, but I am, and I am living, I going to live happily. Yes. I may not have access to a working father. Yes. I may not have the best working body. Yes. I may not live in the most care free environment. Yes. I may not have all that, but this storm hasn't stopped me from smiling. It hasn't stopped me from appreciating what I do have. It hasn't stopped me from achieving my dreams.\n\nSo if all that, means just a simple house, just an imperfect body, just a simple family. I won't mind waiting in the storm. Because in the end, the storm won't last, and if it does I'll smile through it. I'll smile through the storm before the calm. \n\n\n\n\n
