Looking back

Have you ever listened to a piece of music that takes you back to a completely different point in your life? Back to a point where your innocence was still somewhat intact and the old beliefs, hopes and wishes that once kept you grounded come flooding back as a tsunami of sweetly saddening nostalgia? Back to a time where those infatuations you discovered as you came to terms with the world and what it held for you became everything you lived for?

There's only ever one song that does this for me: Sanctuary by Utada Hikaru. Those of you who happen to be budding fans of the Kingdom Hearts game series will know exactly what song I'm talking about, and you may even understand the feelings that I'm attempting to convey; a beautiful, melancholic reminisce. I'm usually quite good at wording how I feel, but words forever fail me when I try to describe this feeling. It was safe. The point in my life to which I refer was never one of complete joy, was never stable, nor was it one I could ever make complete sense of.

I lived in Amsterdam. I was 11. My family life was turbulent to say the least, my school life was... a slight from the norm, and I had a healthy social life. My family life- my private life- was- well, it just was. It was there. To explain: there was happiness there, but there was also fear. There was anger. There was bottled frustration corked with said fear. Anyway, you get the picture. When the bad erupted, I would hide in books or in games, specifically Kingdom Hearts. I became OBSESSED with the world (or "worlds") I escaped into, finding another purpose to my life than the real one I was reluctant to face. I found joy in the companionship I imagined I had with Sora, Donald and Goofy, and I further delved into fantasy as I read fan-factions that romanticised Sora's and Riku's relationship (the two main guys). I was wholly engrossed in a reality I could never truly be a part of, only observe and construct around my psyche to satisfy my every whim as a means to leave reality behind and pretend. I found a new home in a pretend world because I couldn't face the one I was living in.

So, as I sit here, listening to Sanctuary by Utada Hikaru, I look back on my younger self with those mixed emotions I struggle to describe. It's an almost joyful dread and pride. This was a time when I felt beat down and weighted, but I kept myself propped up by a fraction of hope for a life that wasn't real; I kept going to live another day in that world because it was the only world that mattered- it was the only world that was safe. It was my world where nothing could hurt me and everything was perfect, which brings me to where, I believe, the sadness comes from: I had perfection in my hands. A fraction of it, granted, but it was perfection. As I've grown older, there is less perfection to be observed and more fault to be found in the concept itself. I envy my old self for being able to carelessly escape into that alternate life while I am made to face my hardships and take control of this reality- the only way I will feel safe once more.

I realise I needed that escape when I needed it. I may wish for it now but it is not necessary, and it would be self-detrimental to slip back into that old world. I can't go back there, but I can look back on it with gratitude. I look back with thanks, as I know the boy I used to be still lives there, innocence in-hand as he eternally exists in place I was made to leave behind- in a place I let him be. He and I are two different people now; I left my childhood behind before I had to because it didn't feel fair for me to bring the child I was along with me. We parted with a sad smile, knowing I was doing best, knowing that somewhere, I would always exist in an eternal content.

I guess the purpose of this post is just to share. I felt like talking and this seemed like the best medium to use for uninterrupted, flowing thought. I have no advice, no guidance, no wise words or obscure analogies. I just wanted to write. I wanted to make sense of these feelings that I equally love and dread, and this seemed like the only way I have of reasoning such a myriad of emotion- which I have! At least to a degree anyway. I'll never truly understand it- nor do I really want to- but having attempted to understand, I feel better already.

As they say, "sometimes you have to look back in order to move forward". I just need to finish looking back.

Thanks for reading, guys.

Happiness

Today feels more like a celebration than a contemplative search for self-consolation; I feel happy. So let me tell you of my happiness for once instead of my sorrows! Every aspect of emotion should be addressed, should it not?

I have noticed, over the past week or so, that I've been much more social, much less introverted, and a lot more active. It's great to feel this way again! However, I won't pretend that everything is sunshine and daisies. It's more like taking a cake out of the oven: it may stay raised, but it may also collapse in the middle. Who knows?! That's the problem with this sort of stuff: it's riddled with uncertainty, especially when you can feel first-rate one day and terrible the next. I know this extroverted lifestyle won't last too long because people exhaust me (seriously, guys, you drain the life from me)! Each social interaction thickens my skin as the touch and words of others become static. I just have to take some days of recluse to shed that skin in order to emerge, rested and renewed. Social hibernation, I guess!

If you've read my previous posts, you'll notice that this harkens back to an earlier one I made about surrounding yourself with friends and loved ones, like one might surround themselves with allies in a war; you need your connections- whatever help or support you can get, it's vital. This is going to be a difficult process, so sometimes those closest can be your only sanctum in a world that's crowded by your own thoughts- sometimes you just need to let another voice in, or let someone break your voice out. Your loved ones are an important lifeline: one you should never sever, merely slacken it when necessary. Don't be afraid to tell people how you're feeling. I know vulnerability doesn't feel great, nor does the feeling of burdening others with your problems, but just as you listen to your friends, they'll listen to you, too, because that's what friends will always do.

You may find yourself jaw-locked in your attempts to communicate how you feel. My body has this awesome mechanism of defence where it just shuts down, removing all but basic emotion, stifling my vocal ability. It's a dam my mind saw fit to build in order to stop the flood of words that'd drown my victim's ears. Of course, once I opened side channels for a steady flow of sentences, little by little it became easier. My dam is still there, but it guards less water. In time, I won't need it. In time; I'll speak freely without shame, I'll speak without a sense of burdening, I'll speak with a new sense of weightlessness as I drop the sandbags and take to new horizons! But most importantly, I'll just speak. Years of bottling moments, emotions, thoughts and compulsions will be rectified- brandishing my renewal in one hand and weaponising my voice in the other, I'll knock those bottles from dusty shelves, cast them to the ground to relinquish my mind to the demons it has hidden away for so long; I created these demons so only I can destroy them, just as you can destroy yours.

Good luck, guys! We can win this together. ☺