If I could have a conversation with my 16 year old self: always lost in translation between my adhd and autistic self. Losing a battle with the world. Trying to hold on to what is true, the me I wasn’t allowed to be anything but what they said I would be. Like my own “HEY, It’s Delilah!” storyline, I will have a happy ending. Drawing me back to the days when the world couldn’t get any heavier on the poorly balanced shoulders of an anxiety ridden teenager.

Taking on a war against ableism in a time where hard boundaries weren’t allowed. Drowning in silent tears, sprawled out in a bathtub. I prayed for a reason to run towards the light. You see, acts of service is one of my love languages, attached to the people pleasing pain driven into my heart. I need them to just let me be, me.

I am the last one to say I made the best choices. All I can say now is I will forever be the one in the room still learning. Growing to find the parts of me that are missing. You see, I fell so hard one day for the most beautiful eyes attached to an achingly beautiful broken soul. I had yet to see the world’s colors so bright as they were through her eyes.

I said, “I can talk to you and it fills the void created by so many others. You’ve given me strength to find my flaws and ran; instead of use them and mirror their behavior. So what, now I’m free? Allowed to explore the parts no one else could see. Too many secrets, let’s just throw in some heartbreak that only added to the confusion. I don’t want to live if I can’t spend the rest of my life holding on to you.”

As I grasp for a truth in the stream of water. I can’t seem to wrap my head around “You deserve the love you give others” or better yet, “One day you will find your happy ending.” These fairytales were what I thought to be true; anything else but this. “Butterflies and rainbows masking red flags galore” should be my family mantra. I just wanted the world to mean what they say because the truth lies in the eyes of those watching, not the one holding the bag.

Pushing the edge deeper in my arm, I can finally breath. Now that I sit, still as can be, I can see the beauty behind the fallen trees, shadow of her will always be with me. The life that grows from old worlds struggling to breath. We all find peace one day, some for now and others forever in a place you can’t come back from. I always though I wanted, nay, needed it all to be over before life proved happiness was my own choice.

All the times I’d escape to another conversation, room or world within my own head was for nothing. As this world starts to slip between my fingertips. I can see what awaits me on the other side; the same nothingness I tried so hard to hide. Three years later I awoke from a dream, purgatory isn’t what you might think. Honestly probably the longest dissociative state from my own PTSD is what kept me here.

Giving me the time to find my purpose, she will forever be in the shadows of my mine timeline. Cheering for me and always surrounded by the brightest of lights. Guiding me to the life I live now; saving me from my fears. Shuffling the cards in my favor hasn’t really worked out in my past. I no longer wish for the end but the beginning of the next chapter in the book of my life as this one literally is.

written by Just Rant Already