Who am I beyond my name?
If my face didn’t have a name, I would be known as perseverance.
Behind where I stand now are countless battles that trail back to a little 4 year old girl; the age I gained sentience. Since I grew aware, knowing that my fate was in my hands has always stressed me out. I learned to be abnormally anxious before I even learned how to speak out my thoughts coherently.
My curious eyes grew tired, yet I never seemed to outgrow the fast heartbeat that a small child would have. Through every year that passes, my dread gradually grew. It continuously ate away my being, until it eventually hollowed me out at age 12. I found ways to distract myself from the bottomless pit in my chest. The more I tried, the dumber I became. I was convinced I had lost my autonomy when I couldn’t bring myself to keep doing it anymore. I was stumped, and it was no other than me and my restless mind that led me here.
How was I supposed to go against the current that has already swept me away?
I deemed myself hopeless, a lost cause.
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I stopped trying. I gave in to urges, ate the nonsense that my mind fed me, I took hits that should have killed me the second it struck me.. but it didn’t. For some reason, I survived. No matter how reckless I got, it never gave me the ending that I seeked.
Frustrated, I decided to take that as is aswell. Damn the force inside my head that wants me to falter, I’ll keep fighting currents until they grow tired like I do. Let me stumble, fall, and hoist myself up again anyway. Because as long as I’m not dead, I’ll still stand. Although I’m still uncertain, maybe there’s a promised land across the sea for me to swim to once I learn to get over these currents, because being alive means I am destined to find it, so I’ll persevere to do just that.
