Looking at old photos of myself past the age of 14, I have a vacant unemotional stare, smiling seems to be an impossible task, I’m completely broken, a shell of my former self, a lost sheep in a herd of tigers, I gave up on life.
I can’t look at these photos without feeling shards of emotional glass, ripping my heart into a million pieces.
These were my lost years, blurred memories; who was I? What was I feeling?
Hope had evaporated for me and I went wherever the wind took me.
I took so long for me to genuinely smile; to allow myself to be photographed.
Last night I cried, a mixture of sadness and joy, I thought of the many friends I had and how they cared, I thought about how much better I felt these days, I thought about the opportunities I had to help others. I thought of all the reasons I had to smile and that made me cry, healing tears streaming down my cheeks, no shame in that.
It’s been a long road but I can finally say that the hope is slowly coming back, so is the joy. And I can love and be loved. I have no other words to describe it except now I feel I can finally move on. 💜