Belief… The thief that takes away our truth.

“WHAT THE F**** DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY”. This was my awakening to an afternoon nap. I listened attentively, trying to catch words of what was happening. Looking outside I realized it wasn’t my neighbors, it wasn’t the movie I fell asleep to. No, it was coming from my own home. Could it be, that even after our promises and aims to “be different” after we moved, to change and see change in ourselves- in our surroundings… that we truly are the same people. I swear, for a second I believed it was true.

We often tell ourselves that if we “truly believe something then it will come true”. We say “change is inevitable” and sometimes…. in the rarest of times, this can be a reality. But the truth really lies when our subconscious mind starts fiddling with bad habits- playing with thoughts and reoccurring actions. The truth is, we never really change just because we tell ourselves we do. We only start making new actions for our mind to trick our body into believing we are different people.

We are a people that cannot tell the difference between fiction and reality, constantly working and struggling, constantly thriving to be someone, but we are only hurting ourselves because we always end up going back to the people we used to be, we always lose the fight against the Impossible. We move, change our identity, take away our past…. but where does it go… no where. The Past stays right by our side, invisible temporarily, but then bounces back right when we least expect it.

Today, I decided it was time for a change. I was going to go for a run, and start eating healthy so that I would be fit over the Summer, but just like you would expect, the second I had the chance, I was sitting in my room watching Friends and eating a Cosmic Brownie. Today, my sister tried to make conversation with me from out of the blue, but just as I had expected that was all due to the fact that she only wanted to borrow my clothing. Today, my parents spent a day together shopping and bonding…. coming home, screaming at the top of their lungs and telling each other words no couple should ever tell eachother. This… this to me was so familiar that my body in fact reacted instincitively, knowing from the past exacltly how to act in this situation.

I shot up, my eye twitching and my ears blankening every other noise to try to understand what the most horrendous sound was. I kept still…quiet. They were fighting, about what? option 1. not buying the right groceries, option 2. money my family owed option 3. blaming the other for something they said…. option 2. My mothers high pitched voice ran throughout the house, and my fathers monstrous shouts made the hairs on my arm stand up. I heard the words, the swearing, the banging of doors. I heard the silence and then the return. I heard my heart beating faster, my head starting to throb. I felt the tears in my eyes start to whell up… but it was times like this that I had learned to put an armor up, for my sister, for myself. It was times like this where my mind, after all these years, had been built for these oh-so-familir attacks. I had two options for myself. option 1. Go into the room and show them how their fighting still affects their kids. option 2. Stay in my room till everyone goes to bed and then get something to eat for dinner…. no one was going to cook tonight… option 2. I knew they had lied…. telling me things were going to change… but they didn’t know that.   Just because we have moved to a different country does not make us different people. Their are lies behind each of our smiles because at the end of the day, my mind has been solidified and does not just”change” because we tell ourselves that.

I hurt from the pain people face around me. I thrive off of people’s happiness, but this Happiness comes rarely. Makes us Believe we are ok, we are doing something right. Then Past and Reality pitch up and we are back to square one. “Im used to it”…. that is a more relatable sentence then any I have heard. See… when I am still too sacred to go outside my room… when I still hate being home and hate being the only one to make a conversation… when I am still the one blamed and ridiculed… when I am still acting the same way as I did before I came here, then change really is not inevitable. It is just a word… a mechanism we use to lie to ourselves. It is just a way to explain how to move forth…. but not explain how we come right back.

Just because I am sick of the screams… does not mean they will ever stop, that I have had to learn the hard way.

I am who I am because of these reoccurrences. These generalities in my life, these … “ok, whats the net step” situations. I lie. I do things that satisfy my needs that my family could never, and that is how I have lived. I tell myself I’m different, and I go about my life doing things that make me Happy. But I always come back…. home… to the nightmares and sweaty palms… to the crying and arguments. I always come back to the places I know best, to the places that have occurred most frequently because that is all I know. Truth is reality… Belief is a thief that takes that away.


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