“It does not matter how slowly you go,
As long as you do not stop.”
I admit I have struggled. Lost in uncertainty. Wondering about my self worth and the path I am treading. I yearn to belong, yet I feel lost. I am not part of the crowd, in fact I often feel like a lone voice, drifting upon the winds of life, carried to and fro but maybe not reaching the places and the people needed to make a difference.
I lay awake at night, shadows playing tricks on my mind, they dance around as if laughing at me, indecision threatens to take hold, making me ready to call it quits, to divert my path.
The curse of my affliction, the sickness that is my struggle, only seeks to feed my doubts, to bring plague to my soul and reveal my flaws and misgivings.
Yes, I have been struggled.
I look at my diary for the month ahead and there is so much penciled in I feel like I want to disappear and come back when it’s all done. I am tired, and that’s hard to admit, because I want to do everything, I want to take hold of every opportunity and be that strong, able to do anything person that I aspire to. I love the giving of myself to help others, to further my cause, but it’s hard work and I forget that I matter too.
Outwardly I wear my mask, the mask that says ‘I’m ok’ and ‘I’ve got this’ but each day is still a battle and sometimes I feel exhausted. Most days the part of me that is always fighting wins the battle and quietens the voice that threatens to raise the doubts I have tired hard to bury. But some days the doubts surface and I struggle to hold on.
Sometimes I have struggle to hold on, because there are times when I feel dismissed, alone in this, my crusade. There are times when I doubt that my story has any value, that it still warrants a listening ear. Sometimes I doubt I am getting anywhere.
Am I making a difference?
Bearing my soul has its costs, to relive the pain and to know that my battle continues, I guess I forget that I matter too. I am not blessed with a lot of friends, or a family that understands my mission. Somedays I want my past to not exist, I want to be normal and to not be affected anymore. I know however that this isn’t my reality and to chase that ideal only leads to disappointment.
“Look” I tell myself and I let the scales fall from my eyes to see the picture of what I have achieved. I look behind me at the road I have traveled, a long path, hard and treacherous and in the far distance I see the old me in a cocoon of darkness, scared and trapped. Now before me is the new horizon, it is bright, the light beckons me, I can feel the warmth of it envelop me. The opportunities before me are things I never thought possible, that I only dreamed about. Sometimes I don’t feel worthy, wondering what stars alined to bestow me with such promise. They are gifts, wrapped up ready for me to unwrap and savour. So I know I must go on, must keep believing my journey is worth while, that I am worth while.
I know that I am healing.
It matters, my story, my battle. My scars are not there for nothing. They remind and prove to me that I can do this, I can be the change. That all that I have lived through is able to help others and I need to believe this and not let the doubts take root in my heart. Others can dismiss me, but I can be the lone voice. Others may not see the battles I hide, or understand this path I have chosen, and I may never be part of the crowd. I guess in the end what matters is that I have given my all, fought the fine fight and sought to make a difference, however small that maybe.
Do I struggle? Yes, maybe because I need reminding that I matter too.