A cheerer, a dreamer, a magic-believer

9. february 2018 at 17:50 | Black Demon |  my soul
(a weeper, a worrier, a never-well sleeper)

I grew up in a turbulent family. Not abusive, but turbulent. Wasn't really taught to show love or affection nor was I ever shown love or affection (but then again, maybe I was; maybe I just don't remember it). I was the reason my parents got married, you see.
Back then, in this country, it was a common thing for young people to get married after they found out that a child was on the way.
The majority of these marriages didn't end up well.
As far as I can remember, my parents were always fighting. I remember sitting in my room, keeping quiet and trying to play while I heard them screaming, yelling, crying.
The majority of my childhood memories are filled with anxiety. They seem dark and cold, because that's how it was. I learned how to walk on eggshells.
Then my siblings were born. I grew up. The world changed and suddenly, there were some colours.
(not that my parents stopped fighting, you see; even if they did, it is too late for me. I just learned how to cope)
I became the cheerer.
Do you know the cheerers?
No? Let me tell you about them. They are all around us and we all look at them and think oh, how happy they seem. How easy life must be for them. I wish I was in their place.
Cheerers are scarred. They've been through shit and, most the time, they are ankle deep in some sort of shit. Depressed. Sad. Scared. Anxious.
I am a cheerer. I make myself happy, I make myself laugh all the time. I always smile. I do not allow myself to show that I am upset. I do not allow myself to BE upset.
If I get upset, I fail.

You probably don't understand. Let me explain.

As I mentioned, my family is a bit fucked up (sometimes, it happens; sometimes, people just make bad decisions, like marrying when they really should not, marrying for all the wrong reasons and then, as if it wasn't enough, they fuck they kids up, too. They don't want to - it just happens. What can you do about it, right?) but later, in my teens, I learned how to block it. I learned how to cope. I learned how to forget about the reality.
I am happy.

I refuse to see all the bad stuff (I still see it, though; I just pretend that it is not really there and sometimes, it works). I just put on a smile and joke, laugh too loud, talk too loud, in hopes that my cheering will keep the dark demons lurking nearby away.
I laugh because I know that when I stop, they will come and get me.
I laugh because I am afraid that if I stop and go quiet, allow myself few minutes of sadness, it will overwhelm me and I will drown.

It is tragic.

Sometimes, I feel so fucking empty that I want to jump out of a fucking window.

And you know the worst thing?

That children who grew up in turbulent households, filled with tension (with those moments when everything seems okay and then, suddenly, glasses are breaking and they are screaming again) usually grow up into hypersensitive adults (I read somewhere something along those lines; it was a study of sorts, I think. And even if I didn't read it, I can see it on myself).
We pick up moods. We were walking on eggshells majority of our lives, we had to learn how to detect the moods of our parents, we learned to listen to the rhythm of a voice, watch facial expressions, we learned to notice anything odd to know that a storm was approaching.

I always know when something is off. Be it with my friends, colleagues, whatever. I always feel the tension, or just when they feel depressed and it is suffocating.

And then, I become the cheerer.
I try to scare the storm off.
Because I always get reminded of those times when I was a child, lying in bed at night and listening to the yells (hell, when I was a child; it is still happening). And I want to prevent that.

I am a torch-bearer. I carry light for others but I keep none for myself.

So please, if you have children; don't fucking yell at each other in front of them.
Just talk to each other. Don't go breaking things. Do not throw stuff. Do not make the child pick sides. Do not talk shit about your partner in front of your kid. Do not try to "win your child over". They are not your allies and relationship is not a fucking war.
If it doesn't work, better get divorced. Without yelling. Without tension. Without scarring your children for life.
Do not put into this world another traumatized human being, please.
Do not create more broken things that don't work properly. Spare them the pain. The struggle.

Just talk normally like normal people. Or, if you must fight, go to some fucking abandoned site or some forest and yell and scream all you like, until your throats are raw.

I beg you; when parents fight, it's always the children who suffer the most.

Sincerely, a Cheerer.


 

Power & Control

26. december 2017 at 10:18 | Black Demon |  my soul
During the last months, I began to realize just how much I rely on control. And how much it hurts me to lose it. I am a nervous mess and knowing that there are things that I can´t control, things I cannot change, stresses me out to the point of panic.

I am a control freak whose natural response to losing power and control is breaking down in tears.

All my life, I´ve always tried to be the best and I worked hard but even when I succeeded in something, there has always been this quiet, nagging voice in my head, telling me about all those things I could have done better.

You didn´t do your best, it says. You should have tried a lot harder, you could be stronger, better, you could have been the BEST.

I don´t know where I got this attitude from, but for as long as I can remember, it has always been there. In competitions, I have never been content with second place. And even when I was the first, I still couldn´t think of anything else but of how I don´t deserve it, because I could have done better.

And so it´s no surprise that when I suddenly stand in front of something that is much bigger than me, something that is completely beyond my control, something over which I have no power, and no matter how hard I try, I can´t make it, the only reasonable solution I see is giving up - because trying still would be illogical, a waste of time and resources when I know that it would bring no fruits.

But giving up is still a failure because I know that if I wouldn´t give up, the failure would follow soon after. The failure would be inevitable.

Failure means that I am not good enough, not strong enough and no matter how much I try, I will never be, I will never be the best and I know it.

But I gave up and that means that I failed and my whole life, ordered and organized, with a clear path and a goal at its end just blew up into my face.
I´ve lost control.

And once you lost control, it is not easy to regain it. It is not easy to get a hold of the reins again. You have to rebuild it all over again.

But I am going to do it. I have time, after all. I have nine months. In September, there will be not a tiny crack on my pristine exterior.
I will be good as new. I will be even better.
I will pinpoint my weaknesses and get rid of them. I will improve what can be better, eliminate things that don´t work and let go of habits that ae holding me back.

I will be better. This time, I will do my best. Just you watch.

A long way

24. december 2017 at 10:30 | Black Demon |  my soul
Dear Friend (or just someone. I don´t really care, not anymore. You don´t know me, anyway, and there is no reason for you to be my friend).

It´s been a long way.
Lately.
I walked a lonely road and I am growing tired. The line between two points stretches on forever but I have come too far to return now - the only thing I can do now is to carry on. Alone. With my head raised high. With heart of iron. Just as I always do.
But the light of the day is growing scarce and the night is coming. Night and winter. I have to brace myself. I have to stand tall if I want to survive and welcome daylight and the warm summer sun again.
I do not doubt that I will make it.
No matter what happens. I am strong. I have always been. I will not allow anything to knock me down. I will always fight till the last breath.

I used to be weak, back then. Dreaming about taking a shortcut. The easy way out. But pain, pain has made me strong and bitter and now, now I feel like a giant. I know that I can survive.
The worst thing that can happen is death and it is not to be feared because sooner or later, everyone is going to die. It is the natural order of things, after all.

I try not to feel because it is easier that way. I wear a mask in front of the world and I wear a mask when I am alone, too. I will probably never know my true face. But then again, who does?
Those who say they do are liars, or that´s what I think. Because a human being is just too complicated for one to understand in a single lifetime.

Sometimes, I believe in reincarnations. Because it calms me down. Because the possibility of another life after death is better than coming to terms with the fact that there is nothing at all.

I have come a long way, in the last few months. I grew. I changed. I am not the same person I merely three months ago. I am stronger now.
I can do things my past self, that thin and weak little thing, could not even start.
I no longer allow people to hurt me. My skin is thick and impenetrable.

I will continue to walk my lonely road.
 


Do not fall in love with your soulmate

9. october 2017 at 17:18 | Black Demon |  prose
I have a theory.
Now, don ´t get me wrong; I don ´t believe in Fate, in predestination, at least not usually. But I believe, I want to believe, that when the Universe was created, when everything was born from nothing, that maybe, maybe there were atoms, particles that were close together. A stardust.
And later, as everything was spinning around, as the Universe itself was expanding, in a hot mess, in a chaos of Creation, these atoms, these particles were separated.

They later became humans.
Living, breathing beings that feel, their whole lives, like something is missing, but they don ´t know what it might be.
They - we - try to find it, that missing piece, but the Universe is vast and deep and the probability of us finding the one is small, basically non-existent.

But sometimes, it happens.
Sometimes, one person out of a million, manages to find their soulmate. Maybe it ´s fate, maybe it ´s just pure luck - but what matters is that once you find them, you are doomed.
You are doomed to fail, you are doomed to suffer, because it should have never happened. The Universe will not like it and it will do its best to stop you from coming together, from becoming one, as you were at the dawn of the days.
Now, you see, it ´s not that the Universe is cruel; it just doesn ´t like happy endings. It doesn ´t like happy endings, because if they were so easy to get, people would stop trying.

Don ´t fall in love with your soulmate; you will never last.
You will be like shooting stars.
You will fall together and you will burn bright, only for seconds, even though it will feel like eternity. You will burn and you will feel like it ´s worth it, but then, suddenly, you will crash hard and everything will be dark and cold.


Do not fall in love with your soulmate; you will destroy each other.
At first, they will feel like Sun; you will want to keep close to them, bath in their light and warmth. And it will be beautiful and you will feel so alive.
But then, you will realize that their gravity is much stronger than you thought and you will not be able to fight it. You will not be able to keep yourself at a safe distance and you will burn.
They will be like a black hole.
And they will see you the same way.
You will be two black holes colliding, destroying everything in their path, destroying each other.

Do not fall in love with your soulmate. Do not allow it, do not fall in love with them, ever. Not in this Universe, not in this life.
Always tell yourself that you will meet in another life, that somewhere out there is a Universe, one out of a billion, a Universe where things are different. Another life, where billion to one chances work.

I have a theory; I have a theory that the Universe, that Fate (on those rare moments when I believe in its existence) is a wicked thing. It is happy to see our hardship.

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