Metamorphosis

"Any transition serious enough to alter your definition of self will require not just small adjustments in your way of living and thinking but a full-on metamorphosis."
-Martha Beck

Seventeen years young, and here I am in this whole entire world with my whole entire life to live. For awhile, I lived my life in a sheltered cocoon, a cocoon of security. Security from a boyfriend always by my side, security from close friends that were suppose to last a lifetime. But truth be told, people come and go. And just like that, my cocoon cracked. As my cocoon fell apart, I felt as if I did as well. But broken, I will never be. Stronger is an aspect I am starting to see. And in fact, it is not that my cocoon cracked, but rather unveiled. Unveiling a whole new self. Seventeen years young, and here I am. This is my metamorphosis.

It all began with the movies, you know, those chick flicks that I watch religiously. You see, these movies helped me conceive the idea that a "happily ever after" only consists of a knight in shining armor, whom would save me from a life that I had once known before. A life of loneliness; a life of living in the past. Starting now, I will no longer live like how I described above, and here is why. I have made it on my two feet, without the cocoon of security I once thought I needed. I realize now that I do not need anyone else; I realize now that I never did. I realize now that people will forever come and go, yet people will never destine my happiness. People will never be my "happily ever after". My real "happily ever after" is this: my new life of moving on with no dependency on anybody, but myself. My real "happily ever after" is this: my new profound metamorphosis.

The Truth

“You never find yourself until you face the truth”
-Pearl Bailey

I have not blogged for over a month. My thoughts are all over the place; my words the same. But I will try to make sense of them all.

She said it was for just 30 seconds. Her heartbeat pounding like a drum, pounding a bit too fast for her reach. In those 30 seconds she was out, out of her own control. And it was that control which was lost, the loss she described two days later. Because two days later, she vividly expressed the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained beats of her heart; the perpetual, unrestrained beats that caught me in this irregular dilemma. Although I saw this answer coming, still I asked for clarification. Althought I saw this answer coming, still I am surprised that I was right.

Arrhythmia.

This is the truth. The truth I blurred out of sight, out of mind. The truth I have hid from for years, yet no longer could I. Just like how the heart attack hit her, the truth hit me. Before I knew it, there it was. The truth, crystal clear. This is not only what my mom died of, but why as well. And the truth is before, I had accepted my mom's loss purposely with empty spaces. Because before, I rather of had a fuzzy comprehension, having thought that just maybe, it would not have hurt as much.

So the truth is, some can survive, but not everyone. And out of bitterness, anger struck me at the thought of this. But here is what I realized. You can give me the history, the a to z's, not leaving out a single detail, yet there will always be so much more to it. I realize now, that no matter what I know, my question may never be answered. I may understand the irregular, perpetual, unrestrained situation. But I will never truly grasp why.

This occurrence happened just this afternoon; an afternoon filled with more realizations than I could have ever imagined. You see, once again, I fell into another panic attack. But this time was different. He use to care, and I would like to believe, in some way, he still does, and even if so, this time was and always will be different. He would have been right by my side. But this time is different. This time, I faced my panic attack on my own two feet. Which scared me, with a kind of fear I never saw coming, because I guess I never saw him leaving.

But here it is. Here I am. This is the truth.

Bruised

"Scar tissue that I wish you saw, sarcastic mister know it all."
-Red Hot Chili Peppers: Scar Tissue

We feel. We react. We are only human. As this summer winds down, I am learning more and more about myself. This summer did not turn out as picturesque as I had imagined. Maybe my expectations were a bit too high to match up with my reality. But that is not the point. The thing is, even in the worst situations there is some type of good, like the glass half full. This summer taught me inner strength. The kind of strength my mom obtained; the kind of strength I need now more than ever.

We feel. We react. We may hurt sometimes. We are all bruised human beings. And as every bruise arises, every bruise fades as well. This bruise, my inner scar, will fade with time. Although, time is no remedy to forgetting. And even then, I do not need that sort of remedy because I do not mind remembering. Because I know this bruise will clear up, and I will be as good as new. And in addition to that, I will be a heck of a lot stronger with the kind of strength my mom obtained. Because with this inner strength, I can be a single step closer to being more like her. And maybe gaining this inner strength will make her proud. I hope so.

All I know is we feel. We react. We will hurt sometimes. But we are all bruised, human beings.