assorted thoughts/poems/writings I'm never too confident to share. this is a space meant to help me cope with the stress of being in my 20s and not knowing what the hell is going on.
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beginning.
to new beginnings, or lack thereof.
a new start, foundations lost within the stream of consciousness. will it ever be achieved?
beginnings, endings.
life, death.
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untitled. 10.1.19. 6:01 a.m.
it's funny to think how much better things get when the clouds finally dissipate.
everything is clear,
nothing standing in the way of you and the sweet feeling of happiness.
those dark chasms seem further away,
the light brightening everything it touches.
warm memories flood the mind, leaving you feeling like the first crisp fall day.
the leaves are changing,
falling,
dying,
but as a way of rebirth.
leaves grow, breathe, grow old, fall, die, and come back again.
a cycle of life.
an endless cycle to remind you that at the end of it all,
you're going to be okay.
it's funny to think how much better you'll feel once those mental roadblocks go away.
the attendant at the gate allowing you to pass with no questions asked.
freedom from worry,
freedom from yourself.
a place of peace and a moment of calm, all within the mind that never sleeps.
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untitled. 3.18.23. 2:55 p.m.
I didn't realize how lost I really felt.
floating,
in no particular direction.
I never realized how far away I was
from my true self.
hiding,
waiting for the future,
but afraid of what's to come.
I never realized how much of an enemy I am to myself.
my creativity,
stifled.
awaiting the moment when it can finally come back.
I used to be afraid of silence.
now,
I walk into its warm embrace,
like reconnecting with a lost friend.
because in silence,
lies the answers.
a view of your true self.
silence can conjure pain,
but with it an understanding.
a path,
not forward,
but inward.
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breaking point.
The trail was empty that day, so quiet I could hear my heart beating in my chest.
Everything was moving so slowly.
I moved with a purpose, walking along the gravel trail that eventually led to the lake. I had walked these paths many times before in the same state of mind. The trails were my escape. An escape from conversations I couldn’t bear and work I couldn’t focus on. Nature acted as therapy when things became tough.
It was cold that evening. The soft orange glow of the sun melted upon everything around me. Trees, rocks, the sky … all tinted a relaxing orange. Time seemed to move a little too slow.
As I walked, I remember feeling strangely calm. The sound of the leaves crunching under my shoes followed a rhythm that kept me centered and my mind was clear for the most part. That thought was there, but I wasn’t worried anymore. It was a strange feeling, one of chaotic tranquility.
I was tired and stuck in a monotonous loop of feeling nothing. Numb from emotions that brought me joy and made me feel at ease.
At that moment as I walked the empty trails, the thought that had haunted me for months came creeping back into the picture:
“What would life be like for everyone else if I wasn’t here anymore?”
The sounds of my father’s voice echoed in my mind.
“You’re still young, what do you have to be anxious about?”
“We raised you in a safe home. What do you mean that you’re anxious?”
The look of sadness and pain on my partner’s face when she didn’t know how to help me creeped into frame.
“I just don’t know what to do. I want to help, but I don’t know how.”
A pang of guilt hit me at that moment. Was I letting her and my family down?
I found a dilapidated picnic table by the water and sat down. The wood creaked under my weight and the rhythm that had kept me centered as I walked the trails disappeared abruptly.
I wondered how long it had been since someone had sat there.
I pictured a couple sitting together enjoying lunch and discussing plans for the future. It was an odd thought to have, given the circumstances —it was the first positive thought that had crossed my mind that day.
It’s funny how the brain can go through a cycle of emotions in a matter of seconds. It was almost as if my mind was trying to convince me otherwise. One final push away from negativity before everything else began to creep into frame. One final call for help from the inside.
Eventually, I couldn’t hold off any longer. I allowed everything to consume me. I ran through every gut-wrenching moment that had occurred over my 21 years as a form of self-punishment. The voice in my head that had been telling me I was worthless was finally getting what it wanted: acknowledgment.
I stared at the water, my eyes transfixed by the rhythmic lapping of the waves on the lakeshore. I took my phone out of my pocket and laid it on the tabletop.
The rotting wood felt like a sponge under the palms of my hands as I leaned back and closed my eyes.
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the first.
What I keep telling myself happened, didn’t actually happen. I like to say that the day I went to the lake, my mind became clear and that I wasn’t experiencing thoughts of not wanting to exist, but that would be a lie.
What I’ve learned over the years is that I need to be honest with myself as a way to move on.
That day by the lake, the feelings I felt, the calm I felt, were all true. They all happened. But my brain likes dumbing down things as a way to act as a euphemism.
That wasn’t the first time.
This was.
------------
My brain was flooded with emotions. Hatred of myself, sadness for causing the pain of others, frustration with everything … there wasn’t much I wasn’t feeling that day. I was in an isolated place, a box of self-criticism.
“Why are you like this?”
“This is your fault.”
“You’re going to push her away. You’re going to lose her. It’s all your fault.”
Over and over and over these thoughts would echo through my mind. I blamed myself for the black cloud that had been lingering over my head for the past year. The elephant in the room for anyone outside of my immediate friend group.
I couldn’t talk about it with family, and that lack of support left me feeling very isolated and scared. But the truth is, I had support. I always did, but my injured mind had the hardest time seeing it.
The first time I had thoughts of not wanting to be alive happened at night.
My girlfriend and I had gotten into an argument because, as always, I was shutting down emotionally. I was hurting so much that it made it difficult to ask for help or to even let others help me.
Understandably, she became frustrated and blamed herself. Eventually, she got tired of it and decided just to leave for the night.
That was the breaking point. The moment I had realized that there was so much more to what I was dealing with. That everything was crumbling around me and I had no control or way to stop the walls from falling.
This was when everything began to spiral out of control.
Over and over and over in my mind, the same thought repeated:
“This is it. You did this. She left, and it’s your fault.”
“Your fault.”
“She left.”
“Your fault.”
For the longest time, I had been telling myself that I didn’t want my mental illness to affect those that I’m close to. I didn’t want to cause anyone pain or frustration or sadness. I never would want to do that to anyone, but here, I had hurt the person I loved the most.
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2: home.
There are moments when I go back and reflect on my life before college. Moments where I wasn’t taking antidepressants or worrying about whether or not I wanted to keep going.
The best way to understand all of this is through writing. My writing in moments of pain, anguish, and misunderstandings in my home.
My house was a stereotypical suburban home in the middle of Ohio. Nothing here nor there.
There was nothing too special about the sleepy town.
We were used to seeing the same kinds of people and everything was very routine. It got monotonous after a while.
I didn’t notice it then, but I realized soon after that my small town wasn’t the best place to be in for a prolonged period. Things began to melt together and it all just felt … strangely intertwined.
As the years passed and the population boomed, it felt like the town had woken up from its slumber. There was a new restaurant or neighborhood every time I came back up to visit for a weekend.
It’s almost as if they were trying to keep people within that little/big bubble. It was easy not to leave because of convenience. You had everything right there in front of you, and easy access to the capital and the surrounding towns.
But after living there for my entire life, it was hard to see what others did.
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1: culture.
Growing up, I never really realized how important culture was to me. I knew my parents had been born in the Dominican Republic and raised in Puerto Rico — I knew I had been born in a small suburb on the Eastside of Columbus, Ohio. But I never really understood how much of an impact culture would have on me in the future.
I didn’t realize that I would be shaken to my core … frustrated by the lack of understanding and disconnect with the family and friends I “connected” with. The truth was, I never truly felt a connection. That lack of connectivity and understanding lead me to feel isolated.
Alone and lost in a vast landscape of changing ideals.
I was navigating two cultures at once, trying to find an identity without actually knowing what I was looking for.
For many Latinx who grow up in the United States, this is their reality, too. Fighting assimilation or embracing it. Rejecting or accepting the roots that they’re so tied down to. Many hack away at these roots, hoping to eventually sever the ties that bring with them confusion and anger.
Culture can’t be passed on if one doesn’t care about it. If one thinks of it as this toxic, painful landscape that’s impossible to get through.
I wanted to cultivate my roots, dive deep into what made my family into the people they are today, but I had no way how.
Culture, as great as it may be, also carries a dark side.
That dark aspect of my culture was something that pushed me away from fully embracing it, especially when it came to depictions about religion, mental health, associations with others, stereotypes … the list can go on and on. It’s very much a “don’t ask, don’t tell” kind of mentality. And if you’re a man, you’re expected to keep everything in. To not feel the way you’re feeling. To ignore it.
Ask any Latinx person in my generation about what they’ve overheard at a family gathering and I’m sure the responses will all be the same. It baffles me because, for many people within my culture, culture is all about togetherness and acceptance, when truly, in my opinion, it isn’t.
Hypocrisy is the basis of a lot of the beliefs that hide under the hood of this car that gets quick fixes even though a wheel is falling off.
I don’t want that for myself or my family in the future.
Maybe that’s what got me to where I am today … the struggles I’ve had to deal with come from the constant push of hypocritical thoughts being constantly forced into my already crowded brain.
Maybe that’s how I got here.
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questions.
is it that time?
a time to reflect?
or a time
to simply look
at how the world works,
and the emotion
hiding behind her eyes.
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departure.
as I depart
from the normality of
a life that
once was,
I wonder
if this departure
is necessary
or if it’s
just
another thing
pulling us
down.
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regrets.
regrets come and go,
just as the sun rises and falls each day.
opportunities not taken,
words left unsaid,
it’s hard not to dwell on the little things
when life chooses to move on
at a pace you can’t keep up with.
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morals.
morals and
values
drive us
up a wall
without
us
even knowing.
conflicts
within
the
subconscious.
tug of
war,
a battle
with
no
end.
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apology.
I’m sorry for wasting time
when really I needed to open my eyes
and my ears
to what you’ve been saying.
I’m sorry for being like
countless others who looked
to you for support,
but instead dragged you to their depths
instead of throwing a life raft,
or checking if you were okay.
Your eyes evoke thousands
of words left unsaid.
I’m sorry.
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choice.
we have choices
in life.
the ability to try
to change
what is out of our control.
we fight,
stubbornly,
with hard heads,
closed minds,
to move things back into our focus.
when the focus is already there.
a world of opportunity
in front of us,
but we’re blinded
by our own judgments and fears.
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clarity.
clarity, and the complexity that comes with it.
no one sees clearly at first. it comes with time,
through experience and understanding.
being open, with oneself and others,
understanding that some things are meant to be, and other things are out of our control.
clarity, and the peace that often comes with it.
the feeling is one that washes over you, allowing everything to hit at once,
overloading the senses, in a positive light.
breathe, because soon it’ll all be over.
the pain will subside, the confusion will dissipate.
clarity will take hold.
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shame.
shame, what a word.
a word that carries so much within my body,
within my mind…something that doesn’t allow me to let go
of those two moments.
two moments where I lost grasp
of life.
that shame follows me everywhere I go.
when I fall into the place where everyday is cloudy and the sun doesn’t shine,
it’s there.
it’s always there,
looming.
waiting.
never letting me forget.
never letting me to forgive myself.
shame.
a heavy word,
loaded,
with all of the pain I felt that day.
with all of the emotions that sprung up,
and made me feel like I didn’t want to be alive anymore.
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night.
when the day ends
and the night assumes its post
high in the sky,
darkening everything in sight,
we sleep,
our minds taking us into the unpredictable
back and forth,
old thoughts and memories battling for attention
nightmares ravaging a tranquil dreamscape
overactive brains full of energy
waking up to not a trace of the war going on behind the eyes.
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advice.
the best advice oftentimes comes
in the strangest moments.
from the most unlikely
places.
words,
overlooked among
the chaos brewing under
the surface.
deriving from
life lessons and
mistakes,
defining who we are.
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