Ten.
I'm just gonna let that sink in.
Yep, still waiting; the thought still trickling down into the fissures of my brain.
The silence is deafening while it happens.
It's something that takes a while to process, and still, doesn't quite compute.
Ten years since she finally let the weight of the world bring her down. Ten years since she let all of those things that she couldn't let go of consume her. Ten years since the bad days outshone the good and she let the darkness take her, and swallow her whole. Ten years since she thought that that was the only way out.
*****
I told myself last year that I had said all that I needed to say. I had convinced myself that I had let go; I had been vindicated by the fact that it was finally all out in the open. That I had nothing left to hide from the world. That all those years ago, I had witnessed my mum - one of the most important people in the world to me - take her own life, because she was in such a pit of sorrow, depression, and despair that she thought that she could never dig herself out. That I was there and didn't stop her. That I was there, and couldn't stop her. And that for a really, really long time, I blamed myself for that.
Ten years.
Ten bloody years.
People have come and people have gone. New life's been made, and old life's been lost. I've fallen in and out and into love again. I've closed so many chapters of my life, and started so many new ones.
And still, every August, this is the chapter I revisit.
Because no matter how long ago it was, no matter how much I think I've grown, no matter how much I try to convince myself that I've let it go and that it's okay, the fact remains that it's not.
I still have those moments where I just randomly break down. I cry, sometimes uncontrollably. Sometimes it's triggered by something that reminds me of you and sometimes it comes just completely out of the blue. And I get angry at myself for not being able to let it go.
But wait - that's a trait I got from you.
And that scares me a lot. Because beside what eventually consumed you - you were always such a happy, positive person. That smile - that laugh - anyone who knew you would remember. You shone your light onto so many people's lives. But then I guess, you left none for your own. You held onto so many things; too many things beneath the surface. Things that you tried to let go of, but just couldn't shake. And instead you hid them with all of that sunshine, until you gave all of your sunshine away and then you were just left with all. of. those. things. The things that you clung to; the things that eventually led you to the end - the only things you took with you when it happened. Well - those things - and a part of me.
It scares me, because I am, for the most part of it, a very positive person. I get asked, all the time, why it is that I'm so happy, and my reply is usually that I am always like this. I tell people that I don't have much to be unhappy about, and for the most part this is true. I have an incredible, supportive family, the most amazing network of friends, a partner who, while frustratingly oblivious sometimes, loves me more than I think even he thought he could, a roof over my head, and a job that I love, that I get to go to every day and make a real difference to peoples' lives. And yet still, beneath it all, bubbles my struggle to let go of the past; to let go of all of those things that have come and gone that I had no control over, and can't be changed no matter how much I think about them.
I don't want to be like this. But I am. And I'm scared. Scared that that was your fatal flaw. Scared that I am like you. And god, you were an amazing woman, and if you had asked me in the years gone by, I would have considered myself honoured to be like you.
But now - now I can see how hard it must've been to be like you. To live your life for other people's happiness - what a toll it must've taken. What a toll it did take. And so, here I am, battling to change who I inherently am, for the good. And I struggle with it all of the time, but I'm determined, to do with my life what you couldn't. To have more good days than bad. To accept the things that have gone; to not dwell on them or allow them to shape my future. And there will be days when I revert back to old habits and dig up memories that unstitch old wounds but I will not allow them to consume me, however hard it will be. And there will be times where I may seem like I'm losing the battle, because let's face it, sometimes life just gets you down. But I will bounce back. I will not let those things control me.
And you know what, I'm scared of a lot of things. I'm scared of people judging me. I'm scared of stepping on toes. I'm scared of people not liking me. I'm scared of not being good enough. I'm scared of opening up to people. I'm scared of failing. I'm scared of putting my heart on the line. I'm scared of getting hurt. But I'm not scared enough to not say that I need help when I do. I'm not scared anymore, of telling people when things are not okay; when I am not okay. I'm scared mum, but I'm not scared enough to not fight.
I turn twenty-six in three hours. Ten years older than when I last saw your face. And no matter how much I think I'm over it, the fact is that sometimes I'm not. And I guess - I guess that's okay. Because sometimes, it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to miss you. It's okay to have a cry about it. I guess, some things I'm always going to hold onto, whether I want to or not. As long as I don't let it take over my life, I know I'll be alright.
