2020
I remember last year, I thought everything would be better in 2020 and could organize this year’s agenda with things that I’ve learned before. But, now thinking of it, it sounds like a joke and I sound ridiculous.
If you can imagine how fast a train goes by and wreck anything in front of it, that’s how I express 2020. It’s a train full of rage, fears, tears, and pain. When you thought you have through it all and have experienced the very most horrible day in your life or the most miserable life you’ve ever been, then here came 2020. It just came like “Oh, you thought you’ve through the worst and could handle it better? Here I come, bitch”.
2020 for me is like that one night when you have to learn all of the lessons in a short time through the uncertainty and all the mess around, you feel tired and hurt but you gotta keep going because you carry a somewhat responsibility on your shoulder.
2020 for me is like a gun on a head that insists on me to look at a side where I have to realize that, I am all by myself. This year, I have learned so much about how you shouldn’t put your happiness in other people. Even though it’s your family, even though it’s your lover, just don’t. This year makes me fully aware to stop putting high hopes on anything or anyone. Nothing is perfect, no one is perfect, and you are not perfect.
It’s when my worst nightmares come true and my dreams collide in front of my eyes. It’s when I hate looking at myself in the mirror and feel I’m never good enough. It’s when all the lies come to the surface along with much of the trust issues. It’s when I painfully lost a thin thread that I’ve been holding all this time. It’s when everything is miserable but there’s nothing I can do because I am too a mess.
2020 left me a big hole full of hatred, anger, disappointment, tears, and traumas. And as time goes by, I know that I have to embrace it and accept it as a part of me. I’m still trying to figure out how to rise out of it, I’m still trying to figure out how to make a peace with myself, I’m still trying to figure out how to recover and find the so-called “bright side” in all these misfortunes.
But, despite all of it, despite all of my hate for 2020, I proved to myself that I could survive. The funny thing is, despite all of self-hate, mean inner-conversation with myself, the spiraling down phase, the extreme insecurity, and anxiety, I still remember one of my therapists saying upon my self-hate
“Thank you for reaching me out, Qonita. You know what? Your effort to reach me out at this time is proof that you still love yourself. You want to be helped. Thank you for struggling this far.”
I will never remember you, 2020.
But I’ll embrace all these scars, wounds, and all beautiful little things that happened between.
