Being alive

Being alive is absolutely insane. There’s so much happening, so many thoughts to think and entities to love. It’s the easiest and at the same time hardest thing to do—unexplainable and yet we’re loving every day and all the time.

If I’m being honest, love has ruined most of this year for me, while also making small bits of it unexpectedly amazing. Rejection means redirection and I feel like that’s the path I’m currently on. A little lost, feeling left alone, but somehow trusting the process and trying to make the most of it.

I am utterly thankful for everyone who still gave me hugs, listened to my nonsense, forgave me. Everyone who stayed while having every reason to leave. Being aware of things with such a cluttered mind is quite hard sometimes and some days simply leaving the warmth of my bed was an enormous effort.

I figure sharing this is a way of telling myself that I am proud of myself and that everyone else who is struggling can be proud of themselves too.

Everyday we’re doing our best, however that may look like, because it’s different every day.

Another thing, not making it all particularly easier, is the numbness of my feelings that I’ve experienced for quite some time now. Equally happy and sad emotions are nothing more than distantly present. Just like everything is fundamentally irrelevant and I just don’t care.

My therapist mentioned that feelings give life its meaning and that resonated a lot. It explains why I recently miss a lot of motivation for work (so I am lucky to have amazing teammates who make everything a bit more bearable) or school (with all my awesome friends) who lighten up my days a little. This state has become default which can turn quite dangerous. I hope it’ll pass, without knowing how to handle it.

I’ve been told to be more myself again, but I kinda lost that self on the way. It’s almost like factory-resetting a phone: everything is gone, much applicationable knowledge is missing. I don’t know who I am, what my strengths are, how to be there for myself and others, or how love works (in case I ever really knew).

All that’s left is an aching heart and a mind that is empty and overflowing at the same time, so I am happy to be able to write all of this down right now.

And this is certainly not begging for attention (even though I can’t say I don’t enjoy it) but rather to tell that it’s okay to be sad and heartbroken and most importantly: that this is all a part of life; “a heart that is broken is a heart that’s been loved” and healing is not a linear process.