Tag Archives: depression

Self-inflicted war

The most damaging wars are the ones we fight with ourselves. When our mind transforms into a battlefield and our heart becomes a no-go zone. It’s like we’re torn between shooting emotions, bombarded with sentiments. We’re ripped between reasons, opinions, and facts. And that is the moment where we lose all sense of what is right and what is wrong. It is in that little time space where either everything makes perfect sense or the things that did make sense become undecipherable. We become so captivated in our own thoughts that everything happening just seems like a blur. In that instance what should we trust- our instincts, gut, heart or that tiny slit in our brain magnifying every possible threat there is to existence.

But why is it that this war we’re fighting is leading us nowhere?
Why is it so hard to understand that this self-damage is incurable? 

Maybe because we’re already destroyed, that no damage can cause us more pain then what we’ve been through. Like we’re about to explode. These are the types of sparks that cause flames within. But in that case, which fire should we put out first. The one inside of us or the one outside.

Wars are never easy to fight. Because they sketch their marks all over. Whether they’re fought on land or inside our head. But
I guess we’re all soldiers placed in different battlefields with different weapons.

The worst part is that I’m unprepared for this war and I’m scared. If I don’t have an enemy then why does everything around me feel like a threat? I have no weapons yet here I am fighting with my bare hands.

Will I win?
Do I deserve to win?
Why does failing feel like a better option? Maybe because I’m afraid to rise. I’m afraid of whatever awaits on the other end of the battlefield. What if it’s a bigger storm, a bigger war, a bigger threat?

But just because you didn’t win doesn’t mean you lost. Why can’t you just be in the middle? Establish a cease-fire and maybe stay there. I’m not saying that losing is good but why does it have to be so bad.

Sometimes threat does not come to me holding a sword. She comes to me with a pretty smile, draped in poisonous flowers that smell like Eden. She comes to me holding a mirror, and the threat I see looks exactly like me. And that is the moment where I don’t know what to do. Attack myself? Or wait for her to attack me? Either way the outcome will leave me damaged and there is nothing I can do.

It’s like I have no choice. Is the war worth fighting? Is it better to be safe and lose; or win and be completely broken? Why does victory have to come dressed in blood? Why can’t it shine like the first light of day?

Thank you for your insults!

If you know I see dreams higher
than the sapphire alluring sky,
then why do you dig my grave
in your atrocious mind.

Stop tying me to these wounds
I’ll pull through all this pain.
Your hatred only gives me strength
to break free from these chains.

My flight has yet not left,
I’m dwelling my own demons,
the ones you planted in my desire
to keep me from my freedom

You’ve always pressed me down;
your laughs still echo in my ear.
They haunt me day and night
but remind me why I am still here

All your taunts trapped me
behind thick rusty bars of terror,
each day I would close my windows
wishing you could become better.

But I failed to realize that in me,
there’s a beauty you don’t see.
I’m elevating into victory,
where your harsh words won’t destroy me.

But now I’ve broken all those barriers,
the ones shackled in your disgust.
It was you who led me to this victory,
So, thank you for your insults.

The woman with the broken heart

Once there lived a woman, whose heart was broken so badly that she couldn’t mend it. The man she loved cheated on her with her sister, and her mother ran away with another man who was much younger than her. The woman’s heart was shattered into tiny little pieces that she wanted to give up on life because she felt unloved by everyone around her.

She tried all sorts of remedies and went to different doctors, but no one could cure her. Each day that passed took away the woman’s will to survive. All she wanted to do was fade away and die.

Not knowing what to do with her life, the woman decided to go to a priest who lived at the edge of town, near a volcano that hadn’t erupted for the past three hundred years. She left her job, sold everything she had and voyaged to the priest.

“Love starts from within,” the priest had told her as he lit a small candle in a ceramic bowl.

The woman did not understand. The priest gave her the bowl with the candle and said, “in order for you to be cured, you must walk to the five great mountains of Halacin and make sure this flame does not die. And when you make it to the fifth mountain, you will find a cave which will show you your cure.”

“But that’s impossible,” the woman cried. “The gales, the winds, the oceans. Everything will blow out the flame. How am I supposed to keep it safe?”

“That is something you have to figure out on your own.” The priest said as he walked away.

The woman, not knowing what to do sat down and wept. She cried until she could not cry anymore. She was tired of all those heartbreaks, of all those disappointments, of all those failures, and it was at that moment where she decided that she would cross those mountains, search for that cave and find her cure.

She took the candle and began her journey. She faced many obstacles, but she did not let her guard down. The winds spoke against her will. The mountains rumbled beneath her feet. The forests blocked her path. The gales pushed her back and knocked her down. The sky poured onto her, but she did not give up. She did not let her flame perish.

When she reached the fifth mountain of Halacin, she found the cave and walked in. But as soon as she entered the mouth of the cave she saw nothing but the flames of the candle flickering on the walls of the cave. Desperately, she looked around for the cure the priest spoke of, but she was unable to find it.  The woman sat down and looked at the flame. Enraged, she blew out the candle herself.

The woman walked back down the mountains and went straight to the priest. She had decided that she would kill him and then she would kill herself.

“Ah, I see you’ve made your voyage,” the priest said as soon as he saw her come into his little hut.

“You lied to me,” the woman sobbed. She threw the candle and the ceramic bowl on the ground and looked up at the priest. “You said the cave would hold my healing, but it was empty. You lied to me just like everyone else.”

“No, ” the priest said smiling. “I do not lie. What did you see when you went into the cave?”

“I saw dirt, flames and a reflection of myself.”

“Exactly,” the priest said. “The cure you are seeking for is in you. You saw the flames of the candle, which means you protected it with all your might. No skies, no mountains, no gales could stop you because of your determination. Your heart, my child is the same. No one can tear it out of your chest without your permission. And that is why you need to guard it, protect it with all your might. Yes, a person will come along in your life and that person may break into your heart, but how can something so strong shatter so easily. Love with all your might and all your will.”

“But I am unloved. What’s the point of having a heart if I can’t love or if someone can’t love me”?

“Oh, my foolish child. How can someone else fall in love with you if you do not fall in love with yourself? Love can heal the greatest of all wounds, so love yourself first. Your life was tough I know, but you are tougher. Love has the ability to join, then why are you falling apart. Nothing had the ability to blow out your candle, but at the end, you blew it out yourself. Why? The problem was never the world, but how you perceived it. Often, we become our greatest enemies and in that war with ourselves, we cause damage to no one else but ourselves. You survived what was impossible. You kept the flame of the candle alive, then why not the flame in your heart and soul?”

broken heart two

I am a Hero

I am a hero.
A vigilante.

I tell this to myself every time I stand in front of the mirror. I can see my invisible cape and the skin colored mask covering my face.

I am strong.
I tell this to myself every time I find my thoughts slipping away into an empty abyss.

No!
You’re nothing.
You’re a lethargic weakling.
A mediocre.
You aren’t worth anything.

That’s what the villain in me says. He’s evil and he has this way with words that I find myself attracted to him even more. It’s easier being pessimistic, but it’s not worth it. The evil villain in me isn’t like the Joker in Batman or the weird lizard in Spider-Man or even the cyborgs in Avengers. My villain looks exactly like me and sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between the vigilante and the villain. The villain sometimes gets stronger and I find myself surrounded by monsters who want to tear me apart. I can’t fight those monsters because they’re in my head and I can’t see them through the mirror. No one can. Those monsters scream at me. Yell at me, and I can’t explain this to anyone without sounding like a monster myself. How do I fight what doesn’t exist? How do I defend myself with the same sword that wants to stab me?

Unlike Superman and Wonder woman I don’t have superpowers. Like Batman I don’t have money, like Black-widow I don’t have slick moves. Like Daredevil, I don’t have a guru who can teach me the art of saving an entire city because right now I am incapable of saving myself.

I’m just plain ordinary.
I’m a vigilante in my own unique way.

I sometimes have to fight the toughest wars because the bloodiest battles take place within me. I’m like the Yin and Yang, but I’m not black nor am I white. I am grey.

The hero in me doesn’t always win. Sometimes I’m engulfed by the villain. He has this seductive tone that lures me in and I lose all sense of right and wrong. He has the ability to make me tear my insides and I find myself listening to him. I destroy myself in such a beautiful way that the vigilante in me gets confused. The vigilante willingly surrenders, and I end up slicing my own throat.

What’s the point of anything?
You’re a failure.
Just stop wasting people’s time.

Sometimes I yell at the villain and we fight, and sometimes I give in to his threats and lock myself up in that tiny compartment in my brain.

Either way, I always come back wounded, but no one believes me because I have no scars to show or no blood to wipe away. I just have tales to tell and stories to share.

But the greatest victory, I guess, is to keep on fighting. To keep on trying. We all have monsters living in us, but so do we have heroes.

Sometimes these heroes don’t save the world because they’re too busy saving the chaos going on inside of us, and maybe that’s okay.

We all have that piece in us that wants to be Superman or Wonder Woman, but why do we fail to realize that we are our own superheroes. We are our own vigilantes. Making it through another day when you have nothing to look forward to is progress on its own. Getting out of bed, forcing a smile, helping someone in need, even when you yourself are in desperate need of help, is a form of victory. This is what heroes do.

They keep trying.
They keep pushing.
They keep fighting.
And they don’t give up.
They never give up.

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I am not guilty

I am not guilty
Listen to my pleads
My words are my witness
Won’t you trust me please?

I know my case isn’t strong
And I have no proof
but
If I could rip my heart open
I would do it
Just to show you the truth

Eyes can be deceiving
And words can tell lies
You’re listening to their words
Yet you don’t hear my cries

Maybe you’ll realize
When the time has gone
That I wasn’t guilty
I was just trapped
When I hadn’t done anything wrong

This prison doesn’t mock me
It’s the tearing thought inside
You were supposed to trust me
When no one else was by my side.

These walls I’m trapped in
don’t bother me at all
But it hurts knowing
That the person
who was supposed to help me rise
Was the first to make me fall.