Don't Let Go.

So.. I have an aunty with skitzophrenia, and my mother actually told me how it all happened, how she became sick in the first place..
All over some boy.

And then I was thinking.. Wait.. Why am I on medication again? Initially, it was over some boy. Maybe there are some genetics involved, you'd have to check my family's history. But realistically, I got put on the medication because I couldn't handle where I was going, all because of some boy. Now I'm not blaming the circumstances on someone else, I know in my heart what I did was wrong.. The person I used to be was just wrong.. Everything that happened after that day was just.. Not how it was meant to be. And I couldn't get back to what I wanted.. And that pain took a toll on my body. It's been over three years, but I know it's still there somewhere. And since that day I had believed that if I found something that was worth fighting for everything would be okay, I would be okay.. If I could fill the void in my heart then everything would be okay. I'd be home again, I'd be safe.

It's kind of hard believing I can be safe again when I'm so vulnerable. I lost a lot of friends the past years, but I've managed to keep the most important one, the greatest one. But I lost a friend, a few months ago.. And I miss her. And I guess sacrifice is a big part of our life, even if it isn't to the extremes some would imagine. And a part of me dislikes myself for the decision I made..

The thing I wish I could have, more than anything in this world, is faith. I want faith in God, I want faith in the people (most of them atleast) around me. I want to be able to believe in better and greater things, I want to find truth in the words people say. But the thing I need to do, before anything else, is protect myself. I need to take care of my heart, and to make sure that tomorrow I'm still breathing just as easily as I am now.

The pain's never left my side. It's something I carry with me everyday. It's there in the morning when I take my medication, when I'm going to a school thirty minutes away instead of ten. It's there when I look at the people I've known for two years, not five. When I come home and look at the cemetary, it's there. When I shower, there's marks over my body, where my self-inflicted pain is clearly present. There's pain in the people around me, especially my mother..

And now I'm questioning the world again.. I used to believe that someday all of this would get easier, would be better.. But now I don't believe that. I got what I thought would make me feel better, but overall the outside world seems to have nothing to do with it. It's in my mind. But if I'm sick, how will I feel better? It wont get easier, simply more manageable. This, however, seems to now be my life. And all I can do is accept.

Happy Saturday night.

We all begin with good intent, love was raw and young. We believed that we could change ourselves, that the past could be undone. But we carry on our back the burden, time always reveals - in the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not heal.. It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I have held so dear.