A Memoir of Self-Discovery
This isn't the first time I'm saying this and it won't be the last: it's okay to not be okay
I wander around aimlessly in the endless winding halls of my own mind, easily bypassing wall after wall of guarded insecurities I’ve constructed to protect myself from the dark, menacing world. Countless memories decorate the halls like paintings adorning the grandest villas and palaces of kings and emperors of distant worlds and times, from my earliest to most recent memories, some I can see clearly, some I cannot seem to grasp, as if a hazy veil has been cast over them.
As I venture deeper into the seemingly never-ending abyss, I finally reach the epicenter of it all, a “room” more lavishly decorated and solidly built than any space before it. I pause before the door, hesitant to push it open. I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob in a sudden burst of courage. All the deafening voices haunting my footsteps are flooded out by an overwhelming wave of light, all my senses are washed over with a familiar, soothing warmth.
When I open my eyes again, I’m swept away by the breathtaking, fantastical scene before me: skies clearer than the crisp autumn morning, long grass billowing gently in the wind, wild flowers dancing, begging for an extra glance of attention. There are no bugs here, no worries, no fears, just serenity, endless serenity and peace and warmth.
I see a little girl, four, maybe five years old, adorned in a lovely light pink princess dress, her black curly locks swept up into two little ponytails. She’s playing in the spring meadow without a care in the world. I stand still and hold my breath, lest I disturb the happy little one. It doesn’t take long for her to notice my presence, she twirls around and my heart skips a beat when our eyes meet. Her soft brown eyes are clearer than the Icelandic Silfra fissure, calm and filled with wisdom that transcends time, her aura is tranquil as can be, but what’s more shocking yet unsurprising than anything else is: she looks exactly like me, no she is me.
We stand there silently, just looking at each other. My heart is racing as a million thoughts run through my mind: “did I let her down again? I’m such a failure, I can’t believe I couldn’t protect her again. Why did I run back here? Why do I always run back here when things go wrong? Actually, this is the first time I’ve been here, why did I say ‘why do I always run back here’? What’s going on right now anyways?”
Fear and anxiety overcome my entire being, everything seems to black out and I’m crumpled on the ground, shaking uncontrollably with my head buried in my arms. “Are you okay?” A clear young voice wakes me from the never-ending nightmare of self-deprecating thoughts, churning like the raging, stormy sea in monsoon season, threatening with every ounce of its being to swallow me whole and drag me under.
“Don’t worry,” her young voice is filled with concern, a warm, soft embrace hugs my shaking body. “It’s gonna be okay,” she says softly as she pats my back, my nerves calm down as I’m engulfed in her soft milky scent.
I struggle to catch my breath and the world slowly comes back into focus as the crippling anxiety loses its grip on me. I subconsciously try to snuggle closer, closer to the light that is so sweet yet strong that it pierces through the darkness of evil and sin like a sword slicing through enemies on a battlefield.
As my nerves calm down, my tears well up as I think of all my sorrows and grievances. Before I know it, I’m bawling and blubbering like a lost young toddler. “I’m scared. I don’t wanna be brave. I’m not brave at all. I don’t wanna keep doing this, I don’t wanna go out there again. I don’t like it, when will it it just end? I don’t wanna be good. I don’t wanna be responsible. I just wanna live in peace, by myself somewhere. Why do they say all those mean things? Why don’t they believe me? Why does it have to hurt so much? Why can’t I just run away?”
She just sits there quietly listening to me rant, gently patting my back. The tears just don’t stop, “What if I really messed up this time? What if I messed up God’s plans? What if God doesn’t want me anymore?”
She finally pipes up, “That wouldn’t happen.”
Her young voice is so assured that I can’t help but sniffle and ask, “how do you know?”
She gives me a funny look and says, “If God didn’t want you anymore, then you wouldn’t be here complaining.”
Me: …
She flips back her little ponytails and proceeds to elaborate, “God knows each of us better than ourselves, don’t you think you're putting yourself on a pedestal and undermining God’s wisdom by trying to insinuate that God’s plans were so easily shattered by a feeble little human?”
She sighs and continues, “I know you don’t wanna hear all that s*** about how things will get better, but here’s the truth of the matter: at the end of the day, you don’t need to care or worry about anyone else or their opinions—everyone has opinions on everything, it doesn’t matter.”
“But, but no matter what I do, they’re not satisfied, they don’t even try to understand me and they gaslight me and make me feel like some lunatic,” I whimper, “but maybe they’re right, maybe I’m just an imposter, a shameless fake.”
“‘They’ don’t matter. ‘They’ don’t even care to understand you. Why are you placing so much importance on their so-called opinion?” She smooths my hair as she talks, “You don’t have to be afraid of pretending to be something you’re not, whether it’s being brave or responsible or anything else. Y’know why? It’s because you are brave, you are responsible, you are kind, you are doing the best you know how to. Stop doubting yourself, give yourself some credit for everything you’ve accomplished so far.”
We stay there in serene harmony for a long time, “I don’t want to leave,” I whisper, “I’m so tired of it all, can’t I just stay here with you?”
“You know that’s not possible,” she giggles and playfully slaps my shoulder.
I flip over stomach down and stare at the wildflowers, pouting quietly. She flops down next to me and we space out together, after awhile she mutters, “besides, you’re too soft-hearted to take me out there, so you always charge out by yourself.”
“Why are you complaining? Isn’t it better this way?” I roll over and rest my hands behind my head, face up to the clear blue sky. I shoot her a pointed glare, “if you came out with me, you’d be the same as me, no wait, you wouldn’t even exist. At least this way we can maintain the best part of us.”
She copies my position, and lets out a long sigh, “yeah, you’re not wrong about that. At least this way, you always have a place to come back to. Remember that you’re never completely alone, I’ll always be with you. I’ll always be rooting for you. Come back and visit when you’re tired.”
Well as it turns out, life’s trials and tribulations are the best muses for creativity. Y’all have been hearing a lot from me lately, haha. I decided to try out a slightly different writing approach on this blog, let me know what you think :)
Hopefully it’s a little helpful to those of you going through a hard time in life, may we all allow ourselves the grace to not be okay when we need it.
I’d like to end this post with another song, a friend shared this with me the other day, an oldie but goodie: “Vienna” by Billy Joel, enjoy!
Take care dear readers!