Those tears

Reflecting on what is happening to me isn't easy. I hear of people telling me that there are far worse things that happen in life to other people. That is surely true, but implicit in their argument is that I should perhaps attract some comfort from the fact that others are worse off than me. But how can I feel happier at the sight of the body of a three year old Syrian boy, having drowned in the Mediterranean ? How can I feel more comfortable with my situation when I know that there are others, children among them who, during the short time it takes me to write this, will lose their lives ?

I want to tell you - I feel like crying. Perhaps later I will. But this isn't a cry for help, or a want for sympathy because if I knew such a cry would help i'd scream. I am not ashamed of asking for help. Shame came and went a long time ago, taking dignity with it. No, this is a period of despair that comes without warning, bringing sadness with it and wrapping themselves tightly around my broken body, suffocating the flickering embers of hope that for the most part are just enough.

I feel like life is passing me by on the big screen. I am sat in the cinema, alone watching this life go by. Surreal, it feels almost like an out of body experience, something I have felt in dreams gone past.
And although we all make that same journey, perhaps along that same road, brought together by this desperate illness, we alone will have to find something deep from within, if we are going to make it.

A few weeks ago, I had a dream that has left a lasting impression on me. In truth it is difficult to untangle fiction from reality, but I do recall this dream in minute detail.

I saw a tide of what I can only describe as blackness coming towards me. Upon reflection, I do not know why I felt no fear. I just watched as it came closer and closer. And I remember thinking that this was it, that I was going to die, and the question that has come and gone for the last twenty one years was about to be answered. Closer it came, darker, like nothingness, a silence without words or meaning. Then, at the very point of what I consider to be my death, I said I was going to ''see my mother and father''.

When I awoke, I could not think of anything else for several days. It was a dream, but it felt so real, so much more than what I see when my eyes are open.

If you asked me why I am still alive, I would tell you I don't know. I do not want to live like this. But I am afraid of dying too. I want to leave with immeasureable longing, and then an overwhelming desire for life takes it place, swinging like a pendulum with nonchalent indifference.
I am trapped in a burning building with no exits. Sometimes I just wish the end would come quick, but then again I want to live several lifetimes to the full, to make up for what I have lost.

Is this really happening to me ? Twenty one years and counting, but what a remarkable achievement. Nothing has come close, and if you see me at my lowest point, remember how far I have walked, how many mountains I have peaked, and how times I thought I would never make it, but did.

I won't always be sat in that cinema on my own. I won't always walk along that same road suffering in a language that many of you understand. But for now the interpreter is here........ and so are those tears.

Comments

Reminds me of this song I used to play, when I still played music:

https://youtu.be/gIlbZAP8ASQ

I once had to play it at the funeral of a neighbour in front of the whole village, which was one of the most terrifying experiences of my whole life. It made a few people cry, which I like to think was probably a good thing.
 
Thank you for sharing these powerful words with us. You write very movingly. I don't know if it is the same with you, but I feel that I really live when I write or draw. ...maybe so many years watching the film makes us very rich inside..
I think many of us on PR will identify with the feeling you describe so well- not knowing how to live another day, but having a hunger to live several lifetimes to the full ... 21 years as you say is a remarkable achievement,not one you would have chosen...but an achievement nevertheless.
 
very moving post.

"I am trapped in a burning building with no exits."
great way to describe what this is like. No where to go, all one can do is keep fighting to live while still alive.
 

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