A Brave Face

Stream of consciousness for Madness & (May)hem: Day 9

Image: Alex Shuper via Unsplash+

There I am, scrolling. 
Scrolling like I always do.
Video, video, video.
Then I stop.

Something about the music catches my attention. It’s some guy, good looking, fit. But what does he know?

He opens his mouth and he asks “what would you say to someone going through a string of bad days or bad months?”

And the other guy says “I’d say it’s okay. You’re not alone.”

And I break.
I fucking shatter.
I put on this brave face.
Day, after day, after day.

I wake up more tired than when I went to sleep. I dread the next blow that life will deal. I trace my fingers across the bruises and the scars that the past has left on me. I still remember their pain. I still carry it with me.

I’m getting better, though.
Aren’t I?
I’m healing, right?
RIGHT?!

How can I know, when every day brings fresh new pain? Why do the words of a stranger on a video cut through every illusion I’ve so carefully built?

Is it because there’s truth in those words?
I think it’s because I remember that I’m not alone.
I feels like that sometimes.

The ones I call family.
They’re so fucking far when they should be close.
I have to run miles just to meet them.
And they don’t care.

So I come back here. To this place in my mind.
The one that wants to give up.
So, so badly.
But there’s someone else waiting there.
It’s the part of me that refuses to accept what’s in front of me.

The part of me that always knew writing could take me somewhere.
The artist that still lives inside of me, despite all the suffering.
Despite all the betrayal.
Despite all the anger.
Despite all the stabs of their serrated blades.
They cut, and I bled, and they cut, and I bled some more.
Do they enjoy watching me bleed?
It felt like that sometimes.

So what do I do then? In most cases I just shut down. Retreat. Hide. Beg for respite.

But it never comes.

And it won’t.

I have to make the space for my peace. I can’t ask for it.

I have to demand it.

I have to believe it will get better.
And not just believe.
I have to know.
Doubt is like acid.
It eats away at my resolve.

And if I go back to those shadows…
I don’t think this time they’re going to let me go.
I have to stay in the light.
I can’t give up.

So, I’ll put on a brave face like I always do, but this time I’ll try to believe the version of me that I put out into the world. I’ll face the demons, the ones that tucked me in the night before.

I’ll wake up and smile back when they grin through their jagged teeth.

I’ll have ups, and I’ll have downs.
I can’t be perfect all the time.
Or even some of the time.
But I can be me.

I can carry myself through the fire.
I can stop and take a breath.
Looking around, I can see the ones who are there.
They’ve always been there.
Or maybe they just arrived.

Their support is real.
It’s genuine.
I know the difference now.

They called me selfish for wanting to be loved.
They told me I was the broken one.
They threw my art into the garbage.
But what they think doesn’t matter.
It never has.

So, I want you to remember something for me.
You are not alone.
We’re all on this path together.
Taking different routes,
But at the end of the day we’re all human.

I’ve fallen down yet again.
Face glistening with fresh tears.
Dirt in my wounds.
But I’m going to get back up.

For myself.
For her.
For you.
For everything that comes after.

I’m leaving this on the page. All this emotion I’ve been holding back. I’m leaving it here as a monument to the past. A reminder of how far I’ve come.

f you read this, and you see yourself reflected in my words, just remember.

You’re still here.

I’m still here, too. There’s something to be said about that. If you keep going. If you get up every time you fall. If you extend a hand for me.

I’ll do the same for you.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t give credit where it’s due. I wouldn’t have made it this far without her. She found me when I was broken. She stayed with me to pick up the pieces.

I showed her how they wouldn’t fit,
And she didn’t care.
She helped me put myself back together.
When everyone else had left me to rot.

I’m here because of her.
I show up every day, despite everything,
Because she makes me strong.
It’s not weak to ask for help.

True weakness is thinking that you can do all of this on your own.
We’re not meant to white-knuckle this.
We weren’t created for constant stress.
We’re people, not stones.
We don’t erode.
We break.

Sometimes a brave face is all we can do, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that a brave face is enough.

Whatever you have, whether it’s 10% or 100%.

It’s enough.

You are enough.

I am enough.

My mind is empty now. No more thoughts swirling like smoke from a fire that’s long gone out.

I’m clearing out the mess so I can redecorate. I want to tear down the old curtains and put up new worlds.

New stories.

New possibilities.

An escape?
Maybe.
A way forward?
Absolutely.

I needed this. I hope you did too.

Let’s get back to writing, shall we?

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Thanks for Reading! Here’s Your Musical Pairing

Listen to this after you read. Like pairing a glass of wine with dinner.