I am a wreck!
I tried thinking of a euphemism to make you guys imagine me better than what I believe or better than what I actually am. I decided I can't do that because I really am a wreck.
I am those plates you broke because you were unwilling to do the dishes. I am the shards of a glass that fell off your grip because you were being dishonest. For moms, I am the mess your kids have made. Better yet, I am your babies' little piece of sh*t.
An article I didn't really read said on its title that it is unhealthy to call yourself ugly. I'm guessing ugly can be translatable to anything bad we can call ourselves. Albeit the article was left unread, I believed the title. We should not allow ourselves to think of ourselves as somebody we're not or somebody lesser than who we honestly are.
Yes, I know what you're thinking. If I believed the article, I would not have been calling myself a wreck. Why am I doing exactly what it tells us not to do, then? The answer is simple. It's because I am a wreck. Unsatisfactory, right?
Well, if you grew up being made to feel that way, it's hard to help it. Of course, I can say, 'I grew up being made to feel this way so you can't blame me,' but I'm not saying that 'coz I don't play the blame game any longer. It was really just hard to help it. Slowly, one desperate and painstaking step at a time, I chose to be who I am now. Growing up being made to feel that way, and the absence of emotional support system, or the lack thereof are just some of the factors. The main reason I am who I am now is because this is what I allowed. They say that teenagers are highly inclined to choosing the worse things for themselves but each time I take a little glance over several people I know, I see that they had all these sort of problems at home which if I compared were far worse than what I've actually gone through, yet they're all doing a good job. You might find that as oversimplification but if we adjudge their lives using societal eyes, you'd agree that they all seem to have gotten their sh*ts together. So, even if it was normal for teenagers to struggle through this stage in their lives, something remains inside a teenager that would light his way out of the dark tunnel. I don't know what that something is but rest assured, that's what I didn't have. Or wrong, I may have had it all along, but it was something I have been missing the entire time. Perhaps, I wasn't the teenager in this story; I was the dark tunnel.
That's it. Nothing very mysterious or epic. It was just me losing my way in the journey, losing the spark that would've enlightened something internal so that I could've redeemed myself from what seemed to be some train accident. But no, if there's one thing about the story I've been casted for, it is that it's no fairytale.
So, I have basically made peace with the way life molded me. I accepted who I am and tried to be as creative in my ways as I can so I could deal with it in a breathing manner. (If you know what I mean.) A lot of people have attempted to fix me, and to say that they had a hard time would be an understatement. I thank them though for even trying. But maybe, I do not need fixing. Maybe what I need is acceptance. Maybe I need understanding instead of judgment. A hug instead of an advice.
I AM A WRECK. My shattered pieces serve a purpose, and there's reason behind me being broken. What people can do about it is just shut up and fry their own fishes. 'Coz damn, I'm Phoebe Ryan, and there really is a gold in this wreckage. I don't give a flying fart if people don't see it.
To be fair, though, let me just say that perhaps, I am not beyond repair. I might just be needing the repair that takes time. 💚💙
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