For Who Is Stronger…
For who is stronger then the one who pulls themself up out of bed, with no intent to love the world around it.
For who is stronger than the best friend masking her pain in a bottle, and shoving it down below so no one will know about her pit. Well, excuse me pitS. Because strong people like us have multiple. Maybe even triple, double, or some other basketball term coined for success.
All the while, many of us are still in adolescence, fighting demons most people of this world would die at the sight of.
I used to say I raised myself. Giving myself life, and picking up me and my scars off the ground, at a screwy attempt to show myself some kind of love.
Now, I know that isn’t true. When I used to tell my parents about the monsters, their was nothing they could do; and I knew it too. I blamed myself, because you know that’s what I do.
However, deep down inside, I knew that this was really my battle to face, and nothing they could say could impact me in the slightest. Because these mighty voices in my head are the absolute mightiest.
For who is stronger then the one, who when those demons screamed at them, pulled through instead. When ever fiber of their being wanted to rip in two, they knew what they had to do. Pull through because they knew they needed to live.
Sometimes, my friends would open up to me about a muted form of anxiety, or depression, I guess. They would tell me, and I would empathize, because I knew they trusted me not push it down to less. I didn’t tell them about my story, because as conceded as it sounds, most of the time my battle was stronger. Same pain, just suffered through for longer. I wanted to scream at them “you aren’t alone,” and show them the scars that take up my home; but I didn’t. Because I’m not like that. When you are everyone else’s therapist why open up about your life? I worried they’d feel pushed down or belittled, because i shared my journey, and I wanted the full attention on them, too. So, I shut my mouth. For who is stronger then the one who can do that.
For who is stronger then the unlucky people beaten by their mind day after day. Who is stronger then the one who worries about their family dying on the daily.
For who is stronger than the one who doesn’t want to exist, doesn’t want to be. If all of this criteria has to be suffered through in order to make you strong, then I guess, for who is stronger than me.