Ready for a confession of sorts?
This life that we’re stuck in, and yes I do mean stuck, forced me to build layers of courage within myself.
I am sick.
I am alone.
I am different.
I am realistic.
Now, before it seems as though I think the world is against me, let me explain myself:
My job, that I love, expressed that it was okay to be sick, and that made me feel like I was working in a safe environment where my illness wouldn’t define me. I have been sent home, in hopes of sleeping it off, or finding a better solution. I have called in, knowing I would be hurting this business more than helping if I went in said condition. I am now on a medical leave of absence to get this “situation” under control, against my will.
My brothers and sisters are all over the place, living their lives with their families, and while I love my new living situation, and wouldn’t trade it for anything, I do miss my sense of family, the reality of my family.
I like weird music, I don’t like getting drunk with my friends, I’d rather read a book or teach myself how to knit.
And yet I am not accepted by the general public, people think I am hurting their business, abandoning my family, or rebelling against society. Courage to me, means waking up every day and proving the world wrong. One day, people will stop being so blind to illness, people will understand that life gets in the way, and that not everyone can mold to these expectations society has made up over time.
That you HAVE to go to college right after high school.
That tattoos are just regrets waiting to happen.
Piercings are weird.
Alternative medicine is just drugs.
Having an opinion that’s different is wrong.
That speaking up is innaproprate.
That one is my favorite.
Let me scream at the top of my lungs to high school seniors that taking a year off was the best decision I ever made.
Let me laugh at the ignorant, while I tell them that I could never hate this ink within me. And that my piercings aren’t for looks.
I will some day tell those who do not believe in alternative forms of medication, that sometimes its the only solution when a pill full of who-knows-what doesn’t do me any harm nor does it help me. I will tell them that it makes me feel like my body isn’t about to burst into millions of pieces, because it’s the only medicine that helps. Then I’ll laugh, and tell them it’s the best way to calm the fuck down.
Let me some day converse with those who disagree with me, let me tell them that their opinions are well and respected, but they are not mine and that should be okay.
One day it might be okay, but until then I will continue my battle, I will keep my head high and no one will knock me down.
That’s what courage really is.