For Those Who Can’t Get Past The Storm Even After It Ends

We suppress that inner child, go on the subway, listen to the same old playlist, pretend to be happy in front of friends and co-workers, and think “Why am I like this?”

One Wednesday afternoon, I had cried to my therapist because I was scared of both the good and bad of my past, present, and future. Sure, life is “good” right now, but what if it all comes crashing down? What if my panic attacks are actually just very strong intuition? Why do I always think about the past?

I hated myself for not being able to find peace in the truth that I deserved to feel at peace when loving and laughing. All at once, I was trying to function like a neurotypical person with this anxiety, trauma, feelings of loneliness, and reluctance to tell anyone to avoid seeming weak or needy. I’d embrace the people I love, but as soon as I felt comfort, I’d tell myself, “You have no idea what will happen in the next year, or even in the next couple of months. Don’t get too comfortable.”

There’s a difference between being alone and feeling alone. So alike, yet so different—they could practically be fraternal twins.

I felt like a terrible human being for allowing my life to be thought of that way. Especially because life was actually going alright for me. Suddenly, my efforts to foster loving relationships, to foster a healthier mindset, to heal, were abysmal.

But I’m not jaded. Time is an illusion; healing is dysfunctional and gut-wrenching at times. For those who can’t get past the storm even after it ends, remember you just stopped suffering. As adults, we’re expected to live through life while forgetting that inner child who needs love and reassurance to know there’s a rainbow after the storm, to know you’ll be more than okay. After all of the pain, there’s a reason why our inner child cries but still has hope and unconditional love—those emotions are innate, meant to be felt.

Fearing humanity, yourself, and life is choosing to listen to it. The fear that literally screams in your face, trying to hide its whispering, “I am insecure, pathetic, and useless, but you know that misery loves company.” Life is short; suffering is shorter if you let it be. Thank god even time doesn’t know itself.