Skip to main content

Living with the ghosts of my past

Every night, as I attempt to get some shut-eye, a lot of thoughts surface in my mind.

Some of these thoughts are just fleeting moments and go by in a blink of an eye. Some others are familiar ones that happen to be the very same ones I constantly try to keep at bay.

I've always said life truly began for me when I turned 21 because it was at that age that I learned to undo the chains that weighed me down and be brave despite uncertainty. It was also then that I learned to live a life meant for me and not for others.

But now and then, there are nights I'm the complete opposite of how I am in the day. And that, honestly, scares me.

Most mornings, I wake up and feel grateful for everything that I have. I give my thanks while I shower and step out ready to take on the new day ahead. It's a new beginning, I tell myself.

What motivates and spurs me is knowing that life is way to unpredictable to be held back by fear and anxiety so I set out to live diligently and happily so I won't end up shortchanging myself or the people around me.

I treat myself with the best and only the best because I want to believe I'm worth it. And that's why there are some nights, when I think about all the family I've lost over the years, I tell myself: If I don't wake up tomorrow, it's okay because I have loved and been loved.

To my family and friends, I'm an outspoken and cheerful person. I talk and laugh a lot. I'm happy with life and always try to spread positive energy. That's me.

Or rather, that's the person I want to be.

For a long time, I struggled with negative thoughts that were so deeply rooted in my core I'd always frown at the possibility of a brighter, happier future. What for? I'd think to myself, when everything eventually comes crumbling down.

Life's like that, isn't it?

The relationships we spend long times building up are so easily crushed by misunderstandings and miscommunications, by third-parties and jealous people. So why? Why try?

There are nights I think about certain people and how they were a part of my past, how they have a huge responsibility in the way I am now, how they were all I could've asked for. But, they're not here anymore.

They belong in my past and now they're the ghosts I live with.

The dilemma, as always, is deciding whether to let go or not. Or how to let go.

I always felt letting go would leave me feeling empty and lost because while I don't fancy these thoughts, I've always sought shelter and comfort in them. Even if they make me feel uncomfortable, there is a strange sense of security and familiarity too. How can I let go when a part of me still depends on them to pull through some days?

In a world I've tirelessly painted an array of colours, these thoughts would seem a misfit in a joyous picture.

In a life I've struggled to stay afloat the negative energy, these thoughts should not make the cut in the better world I'm creating for myself.

So how is it that they're still here, that I've yet to let them go? 

I might find all sorts of excuses to go back to these thoughts, to the past where the people I loved and treasured are because the past is a nice place to be when the present is not.

Though, truth is, my present is wonderful - it's filled with love and laughter and people who truly care; what more am I looking for?

The past was rough. It was a hard time for the 18-year-old me. I never wanted to deal with people leaving.

But they do. And they will continue to.

I live with the ghosts of my past all the time.

They come out more so on nights I'm worn out and battered from surviving the day. They come out more so on nights I have trouble sleeping. They come out and stay a while, sometimes a couple of hours.

I don't want to let them go just because they were once part of me. I don't want to let them go just because it might be better for me. How can I?

I've hated the world and myself. And as I tried to fit in, I hardened myself and pretended to be someone I'm not. Some days, I still do.

These thoughts, these devils as I would sometimes call them, make me feel human.

They remind me that there was once I felt that way, that I'm capable of feeling. They remind me that I was once soft-hearted and forgiving, that I can still be in this competitive society. They remind me that I will cry when I lose someone and that it's okay to not feel okay because in the end, I will be.

So yes, I live with the ghosts of my past. And sometimes they come out to haunt me. But that's okay.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I remember

It's Sunday night all over again. I can hear slight drizzle against the window panes and I'm watching the lights on the other building go out. People must be heading to bed and I wonder: Do they dread waking up to Monday? Do they hate Monday? Do their bodies feel unusually heavy on Monday mornings? Do they drag their feet into office? It was a surprisingly tough day today. But it reminded me of the conversations I had with Ains. " You're really too nice. That's why people always bully you, " she said. I knew this for a long time but I was thinking of the best way to construe my personality without sounding like a pushover because I'm not. I simply developed a sizable threshold for bullshit over the years. I suppose it is my way of maintaining zen and a passive way to show I'm backing down because I believe there's no reason putting up a fight against anyone who has decided not to give me a real chance even before the argument began. To some, when I...

You learn to live with your crazy

I'm crazy, just slightly  crazy. I'm crazy but maybe I'm not crazy after all? I say the most bizarre things. I walk around with messy hair. I dress down on Mondays and dress up on Fridays. I talk shit with and to my friends. I stuff my face into Shelty’s belly every night. I have a weird obsession with stickers and clouds.  I love walking around bare-footed. I love wearing my pyjamas. I love long walks, especially the ones that could last for hours. I love rolling in bed on Saturday nights while every one else is out.  I’m strange like that. Which makes me feel like a misfit in this society that’s all about fitting in. I don’t depend on technology even though I use an iPhone 6: I keep a handwritten diary, I write letters, I record my daily expenditure, I take notes with a pen and paper, I print my readings if possible, I use highlighters and liquid paper, and the list could go on. Yet I depend on technology at the same time: I scroll through Instagram every mo...

2021

Hello, 2022. Traditionally, this post would have been published on the last day of the year (as a reflection of some sorts) or the first day of the new year (to set out some new goals). But I had spent the last 2 days surrounded by good people and would not have it any other day. But here we are – second day into the new year and back to work when Monday comes around again. Sometimes, it feels like a lot has changed yet nothing has really changed at all.  All things considered, 2021 was not the best year but it was a good year. I felt like I had truly stepped into the world of adulting. This came in the form of looking after my family, including doggo, navigating the corporate world, and getting my act together for the most part. Summing up 2021:  Full-time adult, part-time child There is so much subliminal messaging out there that tells us we have to be at a certain point in our life by the time we reach a certain age. And growing up in a society constantly reminded me I...