It’s the little things..

It’s smallest things, the minute things, the somewhat irrelevant happenings in our ever so rocky live’s that can make us feel normal again, even if for the briefest of moments. It can be a smile from your favorite person; the way their teeth glistens in the sunlight when they laugh at one of your sarcastic remarks, the way they tuck their hair behind their ear every time they commence the spouting of memoirs and theories of their favorite passion. Maybe it’s something much more simple. Maybe it’s finding a book, covered in dust on the top of your shelf, from which you once spent a rainy afternoon indulging your sorrows in an authors fictional tale, when the desperation of your lonely life was nothing but a whisper.

It isn’t much, but it makes you forget who you really are, which doesn’t have to be a bad thing. When your mind is a perfect brew of anxiety and loneliness, it’s refreshing to see a gap in the clouds from time to time. It allows us to reset the clock on our inevitable countdown to our next panic attack. It allows us to believe, that one day, we could turn that moment into a lifetime; that all it takes is a shining instance to be so profound that it changes our lives for the better. You hear stories like that, how an individual who suffers in silence makes a change in their lives that rids them of their illness. This kind of hoping and belief is enough to get us through the day. All the ‘little things’ that we come to love and appreciate, are just reminders that things are not always going to be this way.

Myself? I have a few little things that make me forget. That make me forget how much it terrifies me to be around new people, and how weak I get at the thought of telling someone close to me the truth, in the fear of disappointing an individual whom does not deserve negativity in their life. I write. It could be just a page of my novel in progress, which will probably never see the light of day. It could be a post, just like this one, which allows me to express myself to a community which can relate. It could be a sincere moment of honesty with the younger sibling. The truth is, if you look around, there can be many things that can make us feel better. You just have to look for them, and milk them for all they are worth.

I know that I am not alone with my tales of silence. I have been writing here for only a fortnight, and have been exposed to so many souls with the same story; the struggle of expression in a world from which we believe uninterested. I want to tell you that you are NOT alone, and I want you to share your story with me.

Contact me. Contact me and tell me your story, no matter how sad you deem the tale to be, and I will share this to the world. You can be anonymous, you can scream your name from the rooftops, it doesn’t matter. All I know is that there is a community out there that is ready to listen to you, sympathize with you and support you. Together we can make the world a better place.

Don’t be scared. I don’t bite.

As always,

Peace.

Francis

 

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