I didn’t write this post today. I’ve had this written for a while. In fact, it used to be on my “About Me” page, but I decided to condense that page since much of the information there, like this post, belonged in a post all to itself.
However, with that said, this post is very relevant in light of the sad news of Bobbi Kristina Brown’s passing. RIP Bobbi. It’s always a tragedy when someone so young, especially someone so close to my age, passes under these circumstances.
My personal history, like yours, has strongly shaped my view of the world. When I was three, I was diagnosed with congenital cataracts. Both of my lenses were removed that year. The following year, my father died from lung cancer.
I was bullied viciously throughout elementary and middle school. I wore thick glasses, I was clumsy, and I was an outcast. I felt like I shared little in common with other kids my age, so I struggled to fit in.
Eventually, I gave up. I gave up trying. I preferred eating lunch by myself. Secluding myself from other kids seemed like the answer to all my problems. It was the only way to prevent myself from getting hurt.
At a very young age, I learned that the world is a evil, dark place. Maybe there’s light at the tunnel, maybe there isn’t. Like most of us, I only know what I’ve seen firsthand. I can’t predict the future. All I know is I’m not going to sit here and tell you that life gets better as you get older, because I have yet to see evidence of that. I’ll tell you the honest truth:
Life sucks, but there are still plenty of reasons to keep on living. For me, I’ve found comfort in fiction. It’s my number one motivator. Seeing the world through many eyes is what keeps me going. It’s what gets me out of bed in the morning. Knowing there are stories I haven’t read yet, and there are stories I haven’t thought to tell, are more than enough reasons for me to keep living.
I still have stories to tell, and that’s all that matters.
What keeps you alive?