Wednesday, March 9, 2011


Almost a year ago, my heart was completely destroyed and my life fell apart. The person who I had loved and helped through the roughest time of his life threw me out like a piece of trash, the same way he'd done with most other people in his acquaintance before me (apparently saving someone's life doesn't get you as many points as you'd expect). He then went back to the person he'd sworn he could never go back to, who had cheated on him numerous times and who had always despised me because she saw me as competition.
What followed were months of anger, bitterness, intense insecurity, and a regression in terms of moral development to my pre-2007 stage (2007 was when an incredible amount of good things happened to my personality). If he, and other psychopathic individuals could go around doing whatever they wanted, ruining others for the sakes of their own desires, and get away with it, scott-free and happy, then why would I not join the ranks of the depraved and cut before others cut me?
And yet, at the back of my mind, I knew that I hated this lifestyle. I'd always dreaded going back to my pre-2007 self. I believed, and still believe, that sometime in the future, things would get better for me again, and I would once more be that person that sought righteousness above all else. Until that time when I could rise above the crappy aftermath of the broken heart, though, I would do whatever I could to not feel sad. So I drank again. I gossiped about people. I went out with boys that I'd have no future with. I laughed at crude jokes. I listened to any music that tickled my fancy, disregarding the lyrics. I swore, all the time, in my head. I wasted countless hours on mindless entertainment, desperately fleeing my own thoughts (I played hours of Facebook games. I mean, we're talking rock-bottom here). But I was still driven by fear. I was still governed by that need for frenzy. I was running, running, always barely one step ahead of loneliness. 

And then, a few weeks ago, I was spending time with some of my favourite people on the planet, when one of them brought up the subject of living life to its fullest.
We tried to figure out if we knew anyone that does this, live life to its fullest. And I started thinking about what that means. It is probably different for a lot of people, but I think in my case, it would mean not letting myself be governed by my fears and inhibitions.  
Thinking further, I realized I had nothing to lose. Right now, stuck in limbo, with no way of getting back to my glory days of moral uprightness, unaided (trust me, I tried on my own strength), I have a unique opportunity. I am no longer crippled by sadness and feelings of unworthiness, although most days are still difficult and I still struggle with insecurities. I am not constrained to abide by a certain set of self-imposed rules, since I pretty much smashed them all to smithereens in the darkest days (well, not all- but most). I decided to fight those fears and do things I may never otherwise get a chance to do if things do get better later on.
This blog is for chronicling my adventures.