The dark path trodden, the endless road ahead

Warning: long post. Dark themes, but no details.

I have had a difficult life. It hasn't been as difficult as some, but it was enough to break me.

As a child, I was depressed, anxious, and confused. I didn't understand the world around me. I didn't want to grow up and become the people around me, for they seemed more lost than myself. I thought: if things are this bad now, aren't they only going to get worse? I saw no light. I had no hope.

I remember quite vividly sitting down on a couch at my dad's place, and I realised: I am not happy. It was a frightening thought for a child. I didn't know how to deal with it, so I just retreated into games and silence.

I always struggled in school. I couldn't focus. No-one talked about things that interested me. I had great difficulty making friends. I really only had one, and we weren't close. Then, the little I had was ripped from me as we had to move state.

I faced increasing difficulties. My concentration was poor. The friends I made were self-involved, and my home life was imploding. I was sheltered from most of the storm, but did see dark things. Then, at age 14, my sisters and I were told we couldn't come back home. As disturbed as my mother was, I still loved her. I was shattered.

I lived with my dad until I was old enough to live independently. In that time, I excelled. I did well in school, sports, and I had a social life. I fell in love, and was loved back. I decided to stay. But, my dad wanted to move. So, I moved states again, hoping my old friends were still there for me.

Moving away from my love was heartbreaking. My depression worsened. Someone made friends with me, and they seemed to see me for me. We clicked, but I didn't want to live my life. So, I went through the motions, for years.

My life wasn't mine. It belonged to my "friend". I just followed him. I fell into bad habits. I watched him have one failed relationship after another. He led me into a dangerous environment. So, I moved out, and went to university.

I did very well, and was top of the class in almost all of my subjects. Philosophy was my favourite. Finally, I had found people talking about things that really piqued my interest. My depression still lingered, and eventually I sought comfort and moved back in with my "friend".

Things got worse. Him and his partner fought and yelled, replicating my childhood.

Everything caught up to me. I broke, mentally. I spent 8 months in a ward, and was put on a medication that turned me into a zombie for 10 years. I'm crying thinking of how much of myself I lost. Then, we were kicked out, exiled to the country.

My "friend" and I grew tired of me being a zombie, and fought for a change in medication. In regaining clarity, my depression spiked. I was done. I had had enough. My "friend", now my carer, seemed to only care about me being functional. I tried my best to comply and please.

Things became critical. I couldn't handle it anymore. I ended up in the ward again, but this time, I knew I couldn't go back. I had to live on my own, give myself one last chance.

By some miracle, there was a place for me. Not a pretty one, but a space to be myself. For a while, I just cruised, enjoying my freedom. I reflected, a lot. In reflection, I realised my conditions: autism and ADHD. In an instant, my life made sense, and my depression vanished. My anxiety slowly faded to nothing.

That was about 4 months ago. I picked up philosophy again, and I found answers that cleared my confusion. I did try with my "friend" again, but he wanted to confine me in his comfort. He couldn't meet me where I was.

Now, I'm getting close to having written a book. The dark path trodden, but what lies ahead?

My work needs refining. I need to put it all together in one, cohesive piece. I think I will have to self-publish as I can't accept editorial cuts or major modifications. It is another mountain to climb, but I have hope in my heart. For the first time in my life, I actually have a dream.

I think I want my book to be free, but I fear that it will then be perceived as having little value. It's a collection of poems, short stories, and short philosophical pieces, all thematic.

Sometimes, it feels hopeless. But I write every day. I refuse to give up. Even if I'm unsuccessful, my own words have helped me heal.

I guess I'm asking for support from 7 Cups. One should dream, right? One should strive for greater things, surely.

This is also a story of a hopeless child contorting into a broken adult who then found light. If you are struggling, I hope this gives you a little bit of hope.

@jesusredeemedme2425

@Amanda84

@Tinywhisper11

@Torean

@Creamyyy