After I read that old letter from Dad, I really opened my eyes and began to see that I’d been buried alive all this time. I didn’t understand how I’d been able to breathe through it with all the dirt piled on top of me, and the light running away from me as it did. It is in those moments of intense pain and sudden trauma that we finally see ourselves for who we truly are. That’s when the real fight to survive begins. That’s when we’re finally born into a world we’re struggling to find our places in.
Do I really want to fight, or am I ready to give up everything in this moment? These thoughts stalked me wherever I went, no matter how hard I tried to fight against them. With that relentless power struggle between the two lost versions of myself, I armed myself to fight one more day. And then another. Time would tell if that was good enough to survive.
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