It's been 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8,765 hours, 525,949 minutes and 31,556,952... 953... 954... 955 seconds since I left home. Or 1 year, to be precise.
Looking back, I just wanna hug myself, I was so worried about how I would end up, If I would survive. Yes, SURVIVE. I actually believed it was THAT serious. Now I think that it was super exaggerated, but I remember how I was feeling back then and I know that it wasn't, it genuinely felt like a matter of life or death.
If I'm being honest, I never thought someone could grow up so much in just one year. But I guess you really never know how something actually is until you experience it first-hand. Over this past year, I have learned SO much! One of those things I learned is that life really does shape us, I wonder where I would be right now if I hadn't left home. I would probably still feel like a kid. Of course, you probably still think that I am one, you know, with all the "you will always be my baby" cliché. But I am not a kid anymore. I don't feel like one, even if everyone else still considers me to be one. That's another thing I learned, by the way, how to not care about what other people think or say about me.
Hm, what else did I learn?
Oh! I learned how different life can be when you're living by yourself. On one hand; it can be great. You know, in the typical "not having anyone telling me what I can or can't do" kind of way. But on the other one... it can be hard. It WAS hard. If you are on your own... everything that happens is your fault. I mean, who else are you gonna blame? And, since you blame yourself, you get mad at yourself. But that's the worst, because you have to be with the last person you would want to be with at the moment. But there is no one else there. You're alone.
Well, that was one depressing paragraph, wasn't it? Let me cheer this up a bit.
I know that the kid who left home exactly one year ago would be so proud. So happy. So relieved.
But at the same time maybe a little disturbed, since those "child" qualities got lost along the way. He would probably feel like he lost a part of his identity, but he didn't. He knows that know.
So, if this messed up child could find peace of mind, I'm certain that his life-giver will too, right?
I'm not scared anymore.
I love you, Mommy.
It's been 26 weeks, 182 days, 4,382 hours and 262,974.6 minutes since I left home. Or 6 months, to be precise.
I'm definitely better now. It's been tough, yes, but I'm managing.
It's clearly taking me some time, but it's fine, I'm starting to get the handle of it. I think that, eventually, I'll get used to it and actually like living like this. I don't necessarily dislike it, it's just hard to handle sometimes.
Kids really are innocent. The other day I saw a kid making a dirty joke in the park and I thought "Why does a kid know a joke like that? They're supposed to be innocent". But they are. That child probably had no idea of what it meant, but she knew that adults would react to it, so she said it. Kids love to tease and to repeat, but can't understand the depth of anything. As a kid, I could understand that the adult life was harder than a kid's one, but I never knew how much harder. I couldn't have known, that is part of what makes you a kid, among other stuff.
I still break down from time to time, though. But not as much as I used to. I can absolutely say that I'm getting more mature, but I guess that sometimes I still need to let myself feel like a kid. It would be just cruel to shut that part of myself so abruptly, and I don't want to hurt myself like that. I have got enough I'm my plate at the moment and my poor mental health has suffered quite a lot in the past months, so, enough hurt. I need to start healing now. So wish me luck, I don't need it as much anymore, but it always comes in handy, you know?
It's been 21 days and 504 hours since I left home, to be precise. Or, 3 weeks.
Well, things got a bit better over the days. But I honestly still feel like whining all the time and running back home. I had no idea this could be so hard. SO not what I expected.
Every day just seems to be worse than the day before. I won't survive out here.
I remember, as a little kid, thinking that children and adults were like different species. That I wouldn't grow up, that I didn't need to learn how to live out there because only adults had to do that. Or maybe they somehow already knew how to, as if it was by default.
I wasn't prepared to grow up, not like this, at least. I know this must be hard for you, reading this and seeing how bad I'm doing, but don't blame yourself. Not for "not preparing me", not for anything. It's not your fault. If anything, it's mine for believing that I wouldn't grow up, or that I wouldn't have to be responsible.
I should have thought that through. But it's too late now, I have to suck it up and learn how to live like this now.
But hey, I learned to live once, right? As a child, but I still did. I just have to learn how to do it again, now with different circumstances. So don't worry.
I miss you, Mom.
It's been just 1 day since I left home.