I was going through the old posts on my tumblr account and all I can say is “wow”. I used to be able to write beautifully and not just that, I could write smart and sensible stuff that could most definitely resonate with people. Where did that girl go? She could write so very wonderfully and it is only now that I am realizing this.
Back then the very few individuals who used to read my posts always used to say that I can write well but I always refused to truly believe anything they said, for I thought that it was just them being nice to me. But now, years later, when I look back at whatever I have written, I can see that they were right. I was the one who refused to believe in them and it all boils down to the basic fact that I lacked confidence to the point that I did not have faith in myself.
I also realized that the only reason I could write so excellently was because I used to love writing. It was my true passion. I was obsessed with writing, to the point that I have published blog posts on relevant topics at least twice a week and each one of those posts have been written very much eloquently.
But that elegance is no longer present in any of my writings and I know it’s because I don’t love writing as much as I used to love it. Nowadays writing is merely an outlet for all those bottled up negative and toxic emotions. I don’t do it out of love, I do it for the sake of it and the contrast between doing something out of love and out of obligation is now very much evident to me.
Now I realize that everything in my life is bland and is just a major headache because I do it all out of obligation, not out of love. Looking back, I now understand that my life became progressively more and more miserable because I stopped loving everything in my life. Whether it’s my love for writing, my love for cooking, my love for reading, my love for knowledge, it’s all gone now. I wrote, I cooked, I read, I studied, only because I have to, not because I wanted to. I turned everything I love into a to-do list and it’s reached the point where all these endless lists have worn me down.
I never stopped and tried to enjoy whatever I was doing. I just rushed through everything without ever savoring a moment because in the past few years I gave up on everything. I especially gave up on the notion of joy because subconsciously I had developed this major fear of losing something in case I ever loved it, or enjoyed having it in my life. Why? Because it had happened in my life before and the pain broke me, it hurt me and I never wanted to feel like that again.
But what I failed to realize all this time is that in an attempt to save myself from heartbreak, I also robbed myself from all kinds of elation due to which I ended up in a grey area that was void of positive vibes, which inevitably led me to focusing only on the negative energy. I ended up being sad anyway. I ended up at the very place which I was trying to save myself from.
Bottomline, I removed love from my life in order to save myself from anguish, but in doing so, I tormented myself by creating a world filled only and only with hate, grief, pessimism and so much suffering. What I failed to comprehend all those years ago is that there is no light without the dark. I can appreciate happiness only when there is misery and I can get over misery only because there is happiness out there. Life is a balance of the good and the bad and I cannot simply have only one of it. If I want one, I need to be ready to face it’s better half.