So, They Say This is Fate (in 909 words)

The fact is it’s easy to go crazy. If you think about it, we’ve been going crazy for years and yet, where have we gone? I can say this wholeheartedly. I can say that I have run and hid and I’ve jumped and I’ve dodged my share of landmines. I can say that I’ve hit a few landmines as well. I’ve hit roadblocks. I’ve encountered obstacles that I had to overcome.
At the same time, I’ve encountered problems that became opportunities in which case, had I never been tested; I might not have known what I was capable of. But still, it’s easy to go crazy.

There’s enough in this world that leads us to ask the question, “Is it just me?”
Is it?
There’s enough to challenge our perspective. There’s enough to cause confusion and we start to wonder, “Am I just crazy?”
Some people never go crazy. The again, some people never go sane. And I don’t know where I am—perhaps I’m pleasantly somewhere in the middle.

Sure, I’m crazy. I’m crazy to want more. I’m crazy to think that there is this cause in this universe—that somehow, mathematically and cosmically, we are connected by this thing we call fate.
I think about the years that have gone by and the hopeless nights and empty moments when I swore there was nothing left.
I think about the wondering and the overly-concerned moments when I swore that life worked on a blame system.
It’s amazing to me how people present their so-called facts and the present their case—and they point and they blame. They accuse and they judge. It’s your fault. Wait, no. it’s his fault. It’s hers.

I used to think it was me. And maybe it was me (sometimes).
Maybe I had a hand in it. Maybe my insecurities is what somehow painted me in a corner (figuratively speaking).
Maybe I believed the narratives. Maybe I never learned to question or challenge my assumptions. Instead—I just accepted the blame.

It was never my intention to destroy myself, and yet, I had my hand in it. I say this openly, not to degrade me but instead, I say this to illustrate my growth.

I am not the person anyone says I am. I am not anyone’s definition or description. I am me. And unfortunately, life does not work out as planned. Sadly, we lose. We hit a wall.  We hit the ground so hard that it seems impossible to stand up again. See what I mean about being tested?
I say this often and I will say this here for you to read.
Life is crazy. No matter how hard we try; no one gets out alive.

I wanted to find some kind of freedom. I wanted to rid myself of the murky past and the blindness, which kept me from seeing clearly. I wanted to rid myself of toxic lies and toxic people.
I’m not a “Lifer,” as someone called me; nor will I ever submit myself to prison or be a prisoner to anyone or anything.

I remember my first journal.
Do you?
I remember the words I wrote. I remember the feeling I had as my fingers typed the keys. I wanted to be clear. I wanted to purge myself of all that rotting matters that swirled in my head.
I wanted to get away from my doubt as well as be free from the doubt that was imposed upon me by other people. And I make no mistake when I say this; I allowed this to happen.
I make no mistake when I admit that I settled. I gave in. I took the bargain because I never thought the life I wanted was the life that I could ever have.
Do you want to know if I was crazy?
The answer is yes.
I was crazy to believe there was something wrong with me. I was crazy to allow myself to submit to people with selfish motives. I was crazy to believe that somehow, there was something about me that would never be “Enough.”

I was thinking about a night when I was on the fence. Either I was going to put up or shut up—only, I was tired of submitting. I was tired of quitting. I was tired of believing that things were my fault simply because someone told me so.

I call this the blame game. I say it’s easier to point fingers. It’s easier to toss the weight on someone else’s shoulders. And to me, I swore there would be always be something wrong with me.
I swore that I would always live this way—I would live as if I were defective or challenged and that although I have the abilities and functions to sit at the adult’s table, I would never be fit to eat there.

I can say this without any hesitation—
We are who we surround ourselves with.
We become our environment.

I remember the day I decided to stand up from the table. Without warning or explanation; I stood up and walked away (figuratively speaking, I mean).
I never looked back. I never wondered if anyone from my old life missed me or cared. I never second guessed myself. I just left and that is what made all the difference.

I know that everything in my life happened for a reason.
And what was the reason?

To find you.

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