here's the truth...

It's time I tell the truth about myself, because I've decided to revamp this blog for a while. I love writing poetry, I do, but I feel that my blog should also be exposed as a personal space where I'm able to explore my thoughts freely without any judgment. Honestly, I doubt who is even reading this blog at the moment, but it allows me to verbalise my thoughts in a free-flowing post so people (who...potentially read this blog...hahaha) can understand my sense of self too!

Almost 20 days ago, I turned 18. Yes, the "big" 18, the "legal" 18. My thirteen-year-old self, watching youtube parallel to those covid zoom lessons, would've probably imagined my 18th birthday to be somewhat different. A club, with those fancy lights and a disco ball, popping a bottle of champagne because, well, 18 = alcohol, and wearing a long black dress, swaying through the music and dancing the night away, and so the list goes on. Maybe around fifty people are attending the party, like those high school girls seen in the movies or those really handsome guys asking me to be their date because, now I can legally drive a car. 

Be it youtube or the movies, all of it was propaganda, because after experiencing 20 days of being 18, none of that seemed...real. There's this saying by Sylvia Plath from her most famous collection, The Bell Jar, "I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story". This fig tree analogy is what we all had since we were young, and what we still want to have till we become old. To explain a bit, a fig tree represents the paralysis of choice when facing numerous life paths. You might be wondering, how does this even relate to a thirteen-year-old girl's visualisation of an 18th birthday? Well, you're not wrong for pondering about it, but it's true. We tend to overexpect certain things to prevent the core conflict of experiencing the "fear of missing out". Although, to me, my fig tree analogy when I was thirteen was completely wrong. Not even close to what I imagined, because well, here's where the real story begins. 

On my 18th birthday, I was two days away from writing a very stressful physics exam that I didn't study for, but the cherry on top (with a pint of blood), because that's right, was that I had almost three vials of blood taken from my body as my iron levels and blood count dropped...low. The lower it went, the more stressed I felt. I could hear the ringing noise in my right ear from when I lost my hearing so loudly, that I couldn't think of anything else but one, certain emotion. They say that when you feel you are close to the state of death, you tend to replay all your best memories and the best emotions you felt. To me, I wasn't close to death, but I could submerge so deeply into this particular emotion that, I gained every inch of comfort to keep myself okay. The emotion of love. 

For almost two years of my high school life, I was blessed with this. Honestly, I'm so grateful I experienced this because every tear I shed, or every time I smiled with my heart not heavy, it was all because of the love I felt over the course of this period.  I would go to great lengths to make sure that emotion wouldn't crumble and flitter away like sand blown towards the sea. I guess every wish I had was to sustain that emotion as much as I could, but towards the end, I was hit with reality. I didn't figure myself out for two years of my life because I would spend every second trying to make sure this emotion stays with me, like the golden orb you see from the movie Inside Out, where Joy always wanted to keep it with her. That was me, I was exactly like Joy, and sometimes when I think about it, I still am like her a lot 

When that emotion was taken away from me, I was very disillusioned with reality. Overthinking took over my daily routine, my food started to taste bland, and words kept blurring as tears blurred them (pun intended). I would force myself to think that all of this was just a bad fever dream, and I would be alright in just a matter of time, but no, I would just never be able to accept the situation at all. Now connecting back to the fig tree analogy, look at the contradiction. Who would've thought that my 18th birthday would've been like...this? 

I honestly am so grateful I experienced this, too. Yes, it's true, as confusing or concerning as it sounds, I am glad that I witnessed such a riveting moment in my life. For the past month, I was able to reflect on myself, go out a little bit more and explore the places that I loved, talk to the people whom I cared about, and most importantly, keep myself healthy. Fun fact, I started tennis lessons, and now I appreciate the sport so much more that I feel that motivational urge to go out and feel the joy of seeing that fluorescent, green ball. Maybe, this moment of this emotion being taken away was...right? Maybe I did get the chance of exploring myself a bit better

But here I am, always praying to god, or even holding on to that little inkling of hope, that maybe, the lost emotion can come back. People say when one door closes, the other one opens, but there's always a possibility that the closed door can be unlocked if done in the right way. Patience and time. Maybe, just maybe, one day, I can regain the smile I once saw myself have when I experienced that emotion for the first time almost two years ago. Maybe the love that I lost can come back, but in a more mature and wholesome way that keeps me healthy and happy. But it's all in the beauty of patience and forbearance.  

Thank you for reading this till here, whoever reads my blog. This was quite a long story, but it was the truth. The truth about myself, the way I feel, and how I tend to interpret situations. 

Now I'm glad that I'm 18, and can (clearly) have my (limited) supply of strong zeroes without being asked for an ID anymore. (Time to try the grape flavour...sigh)