Mom, why are you sad?
— Because of life.
My mom has been a good mom. She still is. She did her best, the best she could, and even when she made me sad, I repeated in my head that it’s the first time she’s experiencing life too.
My mom is an extremely knowledgeable woman, and since I was a child, she accustomed me to the fact that she had answers to almost all the questions I asked.
Why are plants important?
— Because they produce the oxygen we breathe. Chlorophyll photosynthesis, sweetheart.
Why do you have blonde hair and mine is dark?
— It’s genetic.
And so on.
Her answers often left me with more questions than before, but I was amazed at how much she knew.
My mom is a genius! I thought.
However, she was often unhappy. With the innocent eyes that only a child can have, I asked her what was wrong.
Life is difficult; you can’t know.
She still tells me that today.
Life is a tragedy.
Now that I am grown up, I have come to different conclusions.
My mom is very intelligent. But, like everyone, she has shortcomings in certain areas. Happiness, above all.
You won’t have a happy life if you keep thinking it isn’t.
You can try to place a withered flower in a lush, green field, but it will never grow, even if bathed in sunlight and watered regularly.
Sometimes, you’re just withered.
You don’t notice the beauty around you. And who can blame you? You’re suffering like a dog.
My mom was a withered flower for a long time. And I did my best, as a little girl, to water her with caresses, drawings, songs, improvised dances, but despite her compliments, I could see the limp petals in her eyes.
I, myself, for a long time, was a dead flower. Depression is a parasite that installs itself in your mind. Those annoying ones that you try to kill with the most chemical and foul-smelling pesticides you can find. But they don’t give up.
One day, I got tired of it. I want to be happy. I want to be happy. But sadness is sometimes so comfortable. And despite constantly telling myself how much I wanted this pain to go away, deep down, I liked it a little. Wrapping myself in that heavy blanket of sadness felt like constantly having my head wrapped in a cotton ball. And as annoying as it was, after a while, you get used to it. And that muffled feeling is almost pleasant.
To start becoming happy, the first step is to be honest with yourself. Close your eyes and sit with your pain. Listen to your thoughts and let them run. Then, ask yourself this simple question. “Am I ready to be happy? Or do I still want to stay in this place?”
Without overthinking it, answer. Let your unconscious answer. And don’t be afraid if the answer is ‘no.’ It was for me, for a long time. Once you’re ready, you’ll know.
If you’re ready to let go, celebrate. Because you’ve just overcome a significant obstacle, perhaps the most important step in the whole process.
ความคิดเห็น