Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Light & Dark - Story of my life
Well, hello there everyone.
I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten me, because I sure did forget myself lately.
You may - or may not - have noticed my on&off appearance on the blog and twitter this past month. And then my abrupt disappearance and this mysterious tweet.
I thought, you know, I should probably shed some light on the situation.
Because as much as we're a book community - always will be - we're also human beings with real human problems, that unfortunately don't involve any chosen one shenanigans, dragon fighting and prince charming swooping in at just the right moment.
For me, books are even more real than reality itself.
I love books, I breath books, I live books. Books are everything to me. And I wish they could have been enough. I wish I could read and write and blog and talk to you guys all day long and have an amazing life full of adventures and happiness.
But real life doesn't care about that. Real life is brutal and hard and it surges in. You can delay it, but you can't escape it. You can run, but for how long? You can hide, but where?
There are happy, fluffy, beautiful parts in life.
And then there are the dark, harsh, bitter, sad, angry and unclear parts in life.
Thing about the dark parts is: they feel like they'll last forever. Logically you know they can't, but they feel like it, and that's all that matters to your brain. You feel like it will last for all of eternity and you'll never-ever be happy again.
Right now, I'm in that bad part in my life.
I'm an 18 (and a half) young woman (girl, really) who literally just graduated high-school and now needs to get into the world.
Easy enough, right?
No. Not really.
It isn't easy for anyone.
And it sure isn't easy when you add anxiety and depression into it.
And parents who don't understand you and can't really help you.
And the expectations the outside world has of you in the 21st century - be independent, get out, do this, do that, have a job, go study, be an adult, be mature, don't be like that.
The outside world is scary.
The outside world is plain terrifying.
And nothing - and I do mean nothing - you learn in school or read in books or watch in movies can ever prepare you to it.
And it might be my depression and anxiety talking but sometimes I feel like it's all too much and that I will never be able to do it.
Other times, I wonder: does everyone feels this way? Is it my anxiety? Does it really make me that different? Is there... something wrong with me?
I think a lot these days about a certain poem we learned at school, called The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as jut as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;