I just kinda live

I’m writing this with a pain in my chest and a cold that I can’t seem to shake off for over a few days. Or weeks. I have lost count already. But it doesn’t matter. Because I don’t want to die anymore, like I used to. When I say I wanted to die, I didn’t mean like the jumped-off-the-building or cut-my-wrist kinds of death. I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to stop having these feelings, but I didn’t really want my life to end. Does that make any sense to you? It’s okay if it doesn’t. Because I’m used to that. I’m used to people not getting how much everything hurts. How suffocating it is when you’re drowning in your own thoughts and all people say is “you should learn how to swim.” How scary when you’re on your own and it’s always you versus the world and sometimes you versus yourself. Even now, it still hurts. Even though I’m struggling to look like I’m not sick when all I wanted to do was lie down on my bed all day, I think I’m going to be okay. And by okay, I mean crying my heart out once a day or clutching my chest when it hurts, or cancelling plans when my cold got too much to handle. I may not be happy every day, but I don’t run away from feeling sad either. I feel what I feel. You know, it is what it is. I try to live for anything. From big things like my next salah, my next Quran reading, or my next presentation to small things like next lunch menu or next drama episode. Anything that can keep me going. And if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that life keeps going. Whether you’re happy, sad or whatever, it keeps on and on. So hold on to yourself, even when nobody else does. Own your story, be proud of how far you’ve come. And for all the hurtings, one think I can only think of right now is how I will be able to stand tall and tell them that this is my journey, and mine alone to tell.