Steph went to read her previous entries. And she went to think of what she was when she was herself, when she was happy, and when there was still optimism in all her negativity.
Steph was happy despite all the unhappiness she had from home, from RA, and from her eating disorder. She was happy despite so much sadness she has undergone in her life. And although she was not the kind to let go of unhappy things, she learnt to just cope with things, move on, and hope for the better. She found happiness in many little things- a brand new day with or without pain, memories, clouds, dance, school, friends and life. When she was sad, she’d look at the clouds and she’d smile. Because despite everything, there were still beautiful things that would make her smile. From the world that God created, to the memories that she held close to her heart.
Steph did what made her happy, without a care about what others would think of her. She said what she wanted to say, she showed how she felt, and she acted to get her point across. She did things her way, and her ability to be as such, made her proud of herself. Because she was strong, and never lost sight of what she was, and what she believed in.
Steph built a facade- a strong and hard one at that. She was confident. She laughed and giggled without restrictions. She was angry when she was angered. But she didn’t cry when she was sad. At least she tried not to, in front of others. She was open about her life. People around her knew the shit she was going through. And people knew her to be strong. People knew that she’d never let RA come into her way. She’d never use RA as an excuse. She’d whine, like a little girl, about the things that got to her. Her family, certain friends, RA, dance etc. But she was strong. She spoke with conviction. And she’d correct others when she felt they were wrong. She’d make it known when she didn’t agree with things. She didn’t care if others were made unhappy by what she did. But she wasn’t insensitive.
Steph wasn’t insensitive. She, in all possibilities, can be nasty. She has done it before. But she tries not to unless she feels very strongly about it. She tried to empathise, every single time. She tried to see where people where coming from, and tried to understand why people did the things they did. She was responsible and took things seriously. At least she tried. She wanted to do things with pride and be able to look back and say that she did her best.
Steph didn’t understand why people didn’t like her or the things she did. She didn’t understand why people couldn’t try to understand that she did what she did because she was being true to herself, and that she never wants to regret anything in her life. She is only so because she knows she is answerable to herself, and herself only. She knew nobody else would be. She was heartened when she knew of people who’d understand her. People who accepted her for who she was, with all her flaws, and with little good points. She didn’t want to let go of these people. But she knows that she is ultimately responsible for herself, and that she must never ever lose sight of what she believed in so much, and for what it’s worth, what she truly was.
Steph was strong. And she had built up a strong front and showed that nothing would trip her over. She’d never be sad for long. She’d never cry much. And she liked to say that she was never one to get depressed. She’d like to remind herself of that, because she knows life is great although there were so many unhappy things. She didn’t quite like it when people told her of her good points. She had trained herself to be humble. Because she knows that once she starts to embrace her good points with pride, she’d become proud. She didn’t want to be proud. She was criticised to be proud and arrogant when she was younger. And she didn’t liked that. She hated it. And so she tried to be humble, and she became negative in a bid to do so. She could never see beauty in herself. She could never love herself for who she was, although she she takes pride that she was always true to herself.
Steph didn’t like the way she looked. She has never liked it, and she’ll never be. She couldn’t love herself. It is ironical, but she could never love herself. She was always never good enough. She let people tell her that she was not good enough. She let people get her down, although she’ll never show it. She tried to tell herself that it was ok. That it was ok that she was never thin enough. That it was ok that she was never the best dancer she can ever be. That it is ok that people hated her. That it is ok to be so insecure. She was terribly insecure and had a terrible inferior complex. But she didn’t want to show that.
Steph didn’t understand why she didn’t feel loved. She didn’t understand why she had to go through so much without much support. She had friends whom she could definitely rely on, but she didn’t want to further add onto their burden because they were laden enough already. She didn’t understand why her family was as such. She didn’t get why her parents were so distrustful, so patronising, so condescending, and why her parents didn’t understand her at all.
Steph was still strong. But she let her facade crumble into nothing. She let herself cry in front of so many people. She was stressed up. She was fighting on so many fronts. She was wounded. She was wounded, yet she kept trying. She fought on, even though she kept getting wounded.
Steph grew weary. She finally managed to open up. She wanted things to work again. She didn’t like to be vulnerable. She didn’t want others to use her weakness against her. But she still opened up in a bid to maintain what was left of her sanity. She didn’t stop trying. She kept tripping after picking up herself. She cried. She cried everyday. She started to realise that things were not getting any better. She started to see that things were worsening despite trying so much. She kept trying, and she tried till she lost herself in the process. She tried till she didn’t even know who she was.
Then, Steph lost it after getting shoved to the edge. Steph did something stupid. She made the people who loved her worry. She made them cry. She hurt them. She never wanted to. She was just hurting so badly on the inside. She spent a week in the hospital. They mended her physically so she was just like before. But she went home still aching deep inside.
Steph was optimistic. She was supposed to rest at home and recover. She was supposed to be happy again. She was supposed to find back her true self. She tried to pick up the pieces, and go back to where she had left off. But it wasn’t meant to be. The same person who shoved her, shoved her once again. She spiralled down once more. She cried more than ever. And now, she dares not to even hope for anything. She doesn’t know who she is. She doesn’t know what to say anymore. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be feeling. She doesn’t know anything anymore. They told her when she was in the hospital, that she is in clinical depression. She is depressed even though she has always said that she is never one to be depressed. And so she is trying to get out of depression. She is fighting both the depression and the eating disorder just so she can live again.
Steph is just trying to keep breathing. She is trying to stay alive. She takes her blue-and-white pill every night in hopes that she can be happy again. She secretly wishes that the happy pill would solve all her woes. But she knows that it won’t. She wants to solve her problems. But she does not know how to. She is numbed- devoid of emotions. She is now an empty shell. So that no one can hurt her again. So that she’ll not be fallen again. So that she can start trying again.
Steph wants to live. She wants to be the nurse that she has always wanted to be. She knows life goes on, and time waits for no one. And so she is trying to live from day to day, uncertain of what is coming, and taking things as they come along.
Steph will be Steph again. Steph will be happy again. But in the meantime, she just has to keep breathing and stay alive. Even if it’s only for the people who love her, and not for herself.