"You're so stupid!"
"Mom say's she'll come get you."
and that was it for me. I walked away from school and didn't know if I would ever go back. I withdrew, packed up, and moved home with no plan and a lot of love. My family did everything they could to keep it together for me. I had never felt so low, so incapable of happiness, but my family and my true friends got me through it. I got a job, took night classes, and tried to get it together. I exercised, read, and wrote my way through depression.
Looking back on that time in my life is what brings me to my post today. I found a gift from myself in a file on my computer. If at the lowest moment of my life, I was able to write this way - to think this way- then I can carry myself through the superficiality of a college break-up with dignity.
A fact: nobody chooses to be broken. It would be irrational to
believe that a person makes the conscious decision to feel the
unyielding piercing in the pit of her stomach, the relentless pressure
building behind her eyes, or the perpetual feeling of emptiness that
remains seemingly insurmountable. It has been said that you are always
in control of your own fate; it’s a lie. Sometimes the choice is not
yours to make, and many times there is a breaking point. The world is
silent, sleep is exhausting, smiling is infrequent, and your spirit is
broken. Barring natural disaster, the truth is that someone contributes
to this personalized, toxic, apocalyptic state. They chose for
you. They fueled the earth-shattering, emotional tragedy that inevitably
infiltrates every crevice of an already fragile life until the glue had
been employed to hold the pieces together is forced to give way to
devastation.
A fact: everybody has the ability to heal. It would be irrational to
believe that a person could be broken forever. It has been said that you
are responsible for your own happiness; it’s the truth. One day when
the world is silent, sleep is exhausting, smiling is infrequent, and
your spirit is broken, you will realize that the catalyst that caused
this quasi-apocalyptic tragedy is unworthy of grief. The anguish will
turn to fury, and eventually to numbness. You will choose to fill the
new wound with the same glue that used to hold the broken pieces of your
life together, and with time, you will heal.
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