Lonely Nights // H.S

35.

'It's better

It got better'

*

Last week, my therapist told me that success and pride are the same thing. Success is a feeling, not a characteristic, and it can become a part of every life experience. It doesn't need to be focused on getting a job, or winning a contest, or achieving your dream; success can be focused on the relief you feel once you're free.

A month ago, I never thought I'd feel that. Swept up in the agony of losing someone I once wanted to spend my life with, sold a dream on lies, broken beyond repair. Most days were spent crying, wishing I had a different life, one that didn't hurt so much. I'd look in the mirror and I'd see someone that I didn't like very much, picking apart their appearance, their stance, their mind. It was like my body wasn't my own, I existed outside of it, and I had to stand back and watch every dreadful thing it had to endure without knowing how to get back home to try and shelter it.

I'd feel every emotion, but I barely knew how to stop them. The very notion of standing up for myself, of deciding to fight back, to no longer believe I deserved those things, felt like an impossible dream. I could extend my presence to fill the universe and I'd still feel as if I'd never be able to find the answers.

I always wondered if other people felt like that. Like life was an endless cycle of not understanding, of being confused, of feeling completely out of your depth. And while searching for the reasons behind that, would they feel as if they were taking up too much space, but hardly any at all? A constant contradiction, fighting against yourself because it's all you know.

The moment we stop fighting, and we start accepting who we are, things become slightly easier. There is, of course, still a sense of feeling as if you don't belong in such a peaceful equilibrium. After telling yourself you are not worthy of something for so long, it's hard to break out of that cycle. But with each passing day, learning to enjoy your life a little more with every sunset and sunrise doesn't seem like such a chore. The stars that once allowed your nightmares to return become another friend, and sleep isn't the burden it used to be.

That is my success.

Wanting to be alive, being content with my life, happy with it. Wanting to wake up and live both a mundane existence and an exciting one. I want cups of tea in silence, glasses of juice with the family, roast dinners on a Sunday, walks in the park, soup when I'm sick, suntans and sunburns, losing a job and finding a new one, going to charity shops for old clothes, splurging on the season's best, getting pay cheques, getting a raise, seeing the tax brackets change, watching the news, putting on a film, leaving the house or staying in. I want the boring and the energising, the tiring and the awakening. I want it all.

Over the years, I had convinced myself that was a selfish desire. Self-important, too. Assuming you can want for everything while also rejecting anything. I lived in a constant cycle of yearning but despising because I hated myself and felt unworthy of everything I had. I was desperate for something to change, but I secluded myself to a life that always remained the same. It was greedy to ask for something I would inevitably push away.

In this regard, I experienced loneliness the same way a cloud expels the rain. I would take and take and take, begging for more water, more weight, and then, I would let it fall when it felt like too much. Each droplet made sense, each break in the air necessary. But as I looked down to the wet ground, I realised I wanted it to return so I had some company, some warmth, some purpose. Thus, the cycle began.

Loneliness was a choice for me, something I used like a shield on the battlefield. If I had no one then I would save myself from more wounds, but I was constantly looking for anyone to look my way and stay a little while.