Happier?

Someone very dear to me once told me that I wasn’t happy because I never tried to be happy. Fact isn’t that I’m depressed or that I fail at the things I do.  I have all the luck in the world; the best mother who wouldn’t think twice about giving up her life for me, the best grandparents who took care for me for so many years and the perfect health, not considering my high myopia or being immunosuppressed at times. Even more, I have Jane my beautiful cousin sister who adores me deeply and Dhonbe’ whom I’ve looked up to and who has watched out for me since forever. I even got to the chance to fall in love and feel the tingly, mushy sensation of being loved and to love him back was one of the things I’ve for once in my life done for myself selfishly. My career was clear green meadow and I was doing the one thing I wanted to pursue since 4years of age. I even had the chance to make people happy just by listening to them and making them feel like they are worth something. I’ve had the opportunity to hold an old lady’s hand while she was on the operation table and tell her that the pain is going to fade away soon. I have my father’s hands and his hair and his artistic personality. So why did I lie awake at night thinking that I’m not going to make an impact in such a small world in such a humongous universe in which I’m even smaller than a mere speck?

I really need to reconsider things and try some optimism for once. But its just so hard when I’ve seen and heard too much and I keep wondering and asking God and myself if I would succeed in continuing to be true to myself. That very someone who was dear to me was right because I never ever tried to be happy. I was too busy worrying about my friend or the kitten or my grandma’s blood pressure or my cousin not getting the chance to artistically flaunt herself or what I’d name my babies or if I’d ever again be able to see that specific renal failure patient at Port Dickson hospital again and so on and so forth. I know, I worry heaps about the minor details and that is what continues to kill me day in day out. Sigh..

I really should try to be happier…

I’m Not an Individual…

I don’t believe that God created me as an individual and I don’t believe that I am alone. I am neither whole nor a complete individual by myself, sole. What completes me and what makes me whole is my mother, who took me into her arms since that day in late July and till today who has stood by me through the most merciless storms and most beautiful springs. I am complete and what makes me who I am is my mother and I believe God created me not as an individual, but as a part of her.

 

 

If she was not there, when I became frail I would have died and when I became lonely I would have withered into nothingness. If she hadn’t stood beside me, when I was crossing the bridge to adulthood, I would have fallen into the river below and drowned. If she hadn’t held my hand, when I couldn’t see I would have fallen on the broken glass and seared myself.

She did not draw me a path; she cleared it for me. Neither did she give me directions; she stood by me when I walked across. She didn’t sing to me; she taught me the verses and the melodies and she didn’t cry for me; she taught me the reason for tears. To teach me emotions and feelings, she didn’t read me stories; she made me see them in others eyes. In her own and perfect way, she taught me life.

 

 

Nothing in existence, or in the heavens can be worth what she is to me. She more than anything can ever be of value. This is wishing God would bestow her with all the happiness, blessing, luck and love because she gave me a reason and a purpose to see the beautiful things in life.

Somethings…

Sometimes there are necessities which are crucial for a person to be happy. Those necessities give hope and shed light on the beautiful things in life. They give reasons to live to for another day and to wake up every morning. They make you feel safer, protected, important, needed and beautiful.

Imagine letting all that go even for a little while. When its all gone, the remnant is just an empty and hollow space where one sits and weeps till the emptiness feels no longer empty. But the adaptation process seems far to long for one to bear with and it feels like one’s soul is mercilessly been ripped piece by piece. Every second feels like a year and it goes on and on and one gets suffocated in it all.

They tell you to be strong but even strength feels like a weakness when one relapses to that empty abyss with every effort. That’s when one’s heart feels like its no longer in motion and everyday and every moment seems just only as a day and just only as a moment. It simply begins to be really very hard.

Maybe it’s just Him testing me.