Honestly speaking, growing up I was a crybaby. Not mature enough to understand myself, far from able to relay my emotions. I cried, leaving those around me unable to understand the issue or with much tools to help. We all had troubles and fears as a child. imaginations so strong and vivid. Our feet would burn if we missed a jump and landed on the lava floors. Actions figures made up, after they fought and stayed friends long after. Only thing was, Slowly leaving childhood behind people expect more from you. A baby no more, the crying and tantrums no longer tolerated.
Demanding answers, whose existence, my creativity couldn’t paint. Forces family and friends around us to be uncomfortable, unwilling to help and diagnosing it as, a “problem child”. Maybe their was something wrong with me. Maybe I was broken and that’s why no one wanted to deal with me. With that single thought, I became broken. Fractured myself in two. The me who is never sad shined bright, while the sad me wasn’t allowed to see the sun. Little do we know, monsters grow in the darkness.
Problems sadly, don’t go away. They need to be addressed, cared for and resolved. The issues that I kept locked up, without an outlet to express it’s self. Resented it’s imprisonment and in the moments of my weakness would try to break out. It didn’t deserve it, only wanting to be understood, it cried because it was in pain, without the slightly idea why. Ready to destroy anything and everything as reimbursement, life wasn’t fair. Sadness inevitably broke out. Sucked the life out of happiness. Left my life dry, thirsty and stranded in the dessert.
Desperately waiting for the clouds to come by and bestow some water, some knowledge, some guidance, some help. The sadness couldn’t go away. Years pasted, breaking point reached, giving up trying to hold out and remain strong. I cried tears. The sadness washed over me. For the first time I accepted it and understood who it was. My feelings are not a enemy but, my closest friend.