I never knew the words to say when I needed help. It wasn’t until I became an adult that I could say that I was broken.
When I look back to my years of high school, everything is blurry. The few images that come to my mind from that time are not pleasant at all. And the more I remember, the more capable I am of understanding what was wrong.
No one really knew the mess I had within my mind.
And I thought that it would fix itself, as if it was up to some sort of magic which, of course, wasn’t. So I remember I had decided that I was going to become stronger and eventually everything was going to be alright. And that some day I would be able to look at the sky and smile for being lucky enough to be alive. However that’s all. I don’t have more memories about that time of my life.
But I think that I was hopeful and hopeless at the same time. Sometimes thinking that I would fight my demons and laugh at them for not being as strong as I. And other times just feeling defeated for no reason at all.
Maybe we should encourage opening and escape from silence. Maybe we should attempt to be more empathetic. Maybe we should not be afraid to ask for help. Maybe we should believe more in the process and keep accountability of our progress. So one day we are not just looking back to a blurry and silent past as the one I remember. And instead we could see clearly the past we overcame and understand that the people we become can face a future of hope.
So maybe the first thing that we need to accept when we close ourselves to others is that we cannot always do this on our own and once we seek for help, each one of us can, at least, remind others that we are not alone in a blurry “to-be” past.