Saturday, February 8, 2014

Truth

It's safe to say that this week has been a struggle.

Having just typed that, I feel incredibly silly and ashamed. While I have had my own difficulties this week, nothing could compare to the struggles my friends are facing and will continue to face in the coming weeks. While health issues are plaguing one of my best friends, a young man in my year died while on a trip with a college society. I refuse to name him or go into intense details about the case: people are doing enough of that as is. I also would not claim to have ever been incredibly close to the deceased, but on any occasion I did engage with him, he always came across as a very polite, well-rounded young man.

These are hard truths we face. "God only takes the best", we are told, as hands are held and eyes are closed. We pick up our friends from the airport to greet them with smiles and warm hugs, only to be met with ashen faces and distress. Emotions run high as you realise it could have happened to any one. "Life is simple, it's just not easy" - another equally upbeat pearl of wisdom from the powers that be.

You sit and wonder why. You sit and sympathise with the family in a faraway county, who must bury their son in the most tragic of circumstances. You sit and wonder why it wasn't you. You're selfish. You cry wolf and blame anxiety for your cowardliness. You blame others for the self-inflicted panic attacks. You lay awake until five in the morning begging people to talk to you until your heart stops racing. You lie and cry after love in the dark of your room. You call others out for their selfish acts caused by their own inner conflictions. You act recklessly and irresponsibly in a desperate attempt to recapture your spirit and call yourself brave. You are no better for saying no. You are no stronger.

I've spoken briefly before about my anxiety. It's something that's stuck around, and tends to rear its head when I'm alone. Anxiety and loneliness are lovers. I've moved back to Dublin following my Christmas break, and was living in the apartment by myself while all my friends were away. I told my mam, who reassured me I could come home whenever I wanted to. But I turned her down. I saw coming at the weekend as a sign of weakness. I felt like I had something to prove. Going home would be allowing my emotions to win.

My brain became more wound up as cabin fever set in. My sheets were sweaty and I felt like I'd seen everything the internet had to offer me. So, that night, I went out by myself, in a city I am still growing accustomed to. I got drunk, and, in hindsight, put myself in a potentially dangerous position. What I had thought to be a courageous act had been hideously stupid in light of what had happened.

You have your darkest days in exchange for the brightest of nights. Often, the pieces of yourself will feel broken or shift out of place. That doesn't make you weak. Neither does asking for help. Comparing your problems to others' don't make your problems any lesser or any greater. They are still your fears, and they will feel just as real, no matter what the context. I encourage any one with the saddest of burdens to reach out their hand in the dark and take the first step. Despite how small you feel, you will always be the largest part of someone's eye, the plug in the hole in someone's heart. You'd don't go any where alone, and you don't let any one go any where alone.

You'll still over think. You will still cry yourself to sleep worrying about your future in the hands of demi-gods. Bad things will still happen. But not a day will go by when you won't be shining. You are as bright as the day you were born - for always, forever.


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