A few times in your life, you would hit a low point. Like the sad chapter in a novel or one of those sad slow montage in movies with rain or sad songs in the background—or even both.
And to the viewers and the readers, the bystanders who merely witnessed you at your lowest, it’s not a big deal. It’s a short-lived moment in a bigger picture. A blink of an eye. They’d think you’re being too dramatic. But you know they’re wrong.
They haven’t experienced it the way you have. They don’t know the pain and sadness that only you bear.
They don’t understand.
And so you suffer quietly. Blinking back tears, pushing them far back into your eyes. You try to lift your head up, look at the ceiling, but see nothing through the blur of unshed tears filling your sight.
They don’t see the swell and redness that your eyes should have after crying because you did not shed any tears. You did not cry loudly; no one could hear the song of hurt playing deep inside you.
No, only your body could feel your struggle and your mind was the sole listener of that sad song. The swell wasn’t visible outside because it was your heart that stretched unbearably with bottled up pain.
To the people who are suffering alone, who are crying in the dark or silently inside, to those who feel like things seem to be falling apart around you, please know.
I understand.
I’m one of you. I have felt similarly to what you are feeling now. And let me tell you something honest.
The others are wrong, yes. You are not experiencing a montage that would fade instantly. But they are also right. It is not the end of the world. That burden is not forever. And if it comes to a point when it becomes overwhelming, please.
Please don’t allow yourself to be drowned by your sorrows.
Please remember that you are stronger than your struggles.
Please know that I am here.
If that makes any difference.
I’ve learned to accept that life comes with harshness and cruelty and difficult obstacles but even now I still don’t know the secret formula for passing through each of them with no scratch. I bear with me scars that will never fully heal and I will carry them for the rest of my life. But I refuse to let that stop me from wanting to live the life that I want to lead.
And it mustn’t let you too.
So suffer. Give yourself a moment (or three) to cry, to acknowledge the pain. Mourn for that tiny piece of perfection now wounded and utterly imperfect. Grieve for the loss of happiness but know—truly know—that it’s only temporary.
Because what’s amazing about life, I learned, is that it’s so much bigger than all of us. This makes life uncontrollable and unpredictable. But this also allows life anything inside it. Anything. The possibilities of what will happen next are infinite, as are your choices. Even at times when it feels like you’re cramped tight in a box.
So cry. Be sad. And then choose to be happy, to be hopeful, afterwards.
I know it’s hard; I keep returning in that same position, always struggling every time. But try. Stand back up bearing the scars. Forever with you, a reminder of what you have gone through. There will be moments when they’ll hurt again.
But stand and keep on walking anyway.
Have a happy day, awesome person 😃
