To Triumph

She laid back on her bed, staring up at her painted ceiling, a bottle held loosely between her thumb and forefinger, a carefree grin spreading on her face. She glanced up at the sound of knocking before her brother came barging in and sprawled on her silver duvet, laying on his side facing her.

“happy new year” he greeted, his speech slurred slightly, a dopey grin on his face, he ignored the curls that were tumbling over his eyes.

“Crazy huh?” she replied lazily taking a swig of the cider, careful not to choke “can’t believe it’s been a year already”

“well I have to hand it to you, you said it would be your year and it was” her brother toasted her, stealing her cider before leaving the room, obnoxiously leaving it open. She was too lazy to get up and close it.

“cheeky bastard” she muttered fondly

Her moss green eyes wandered back to her ceiling, blank and unseeing as she thought over the past year, all of her battles and victories, the struggles she went through and the refusal to give up even with the setbacks. For twenty years she had been suffering, going from one fire to another, a helpless child trying to stay balanced like a sailor in the middle of the sea, she hadn’t managed it, barely staying afloat.

The year before last had been a disaster, she had finished college top of her class and had gotten an unconditional offer to her university and she was excited and ready to start the new chapter of her life, but like always past traumas had crept upon her and rather than shoving it all down and bottling it up, the bottle had exploded. She had been removed from the university and dragged home, in what she thought was, shame- a disgrace to the family. However, looking back, she could see that it was concern that had her father taking her home, she was so close to the abyss and hadn’t recognised the danger she was truly in. 

she had always been envious of others who had seemingly done so much better than her and she had always fought to be by their side, not looked down upon and pitted because 'that's the poor girl whose mother was an alcoholic' 'that's the poor girl who was homeless' 'that's the poor girl who will never reach her peers levels'. she was determined to prove them all wrong and she had for twenty years- fighting hard, again and again, rallying before the blockades before her and clearing the hurdles to be recognised and respected on her own merits- to not be tarnished with the brush of generalisation but it became too much and she had imploded incapable of keeping the cracks of her mind hidden and covered- lies and deceit can only do so much after all.

She had spent the year in a year of numbness, not understanding and cast adrift as to what the hell she was supposed to do now, but then the new year had rung in and she had decided to finally tackle her issues, from the foundation up. She finally realised she had to walk before she could run, that she could no longer just limp along, to deny in addition to a fake smile along with ‘I’m fine’.

The new year she hit the ground with vigour, tackling small things along with building plans. She made a doctor’s appointment and went to a therapist finally getting the diagnosis she needed for so long, the doctors gave her medication. She finally started brushing her teeth day and night, washing her face along with brushing her once tangled brunette hair. She congratulated herself on all of it- her father cheering her along, in her corner as he has always been.

She was not in a sprint or racing against others, she was in a marathon of her own making and needed to go her own pace, she realised the disgrace that was her room and fixed it, decorating it because she was allowed nice things, she could be selfish and put herself first. there was, of course, struggles, the beratement from the voices in her head a constant drum that she fought against and bit back, the nightmares, her panic attacks and low moods coupled with her lack of energy caused days where she laid in bed- lacklustre, depressed and desiring death but that was okay, she needed to walk before she ran. She was sick and it sometimes got worse before it got better.

Her room, her safety net was to her dream standard so she focused on her physical body, going out and socialising, joining a gym to get fit and eating better because- despite her fears of eating- it was okay to eat, it was okay to leave food, it was okay to eat more than once.

She had even made friends, she had proven to herself along with the voices that she was likeable, that she deserved friends and people did care for her. her emotional state had been improved along with her physical.

She attended therapy sessions and tackled the issues going on in her mind, confronting her past traumas and proving herself strong enough to brace the storm, to process and accept, to move on. To find her triggers and work with as well as around them. She got herself new clothes to make herself feel better and to look better, she went out and explored the world around her, to revel in the activates she loved moreover she went on new adventures and created memories to last a lifetime.

it would take time and she would never be one hundred per cent cured, it was a life long illness of course, but she could manage and she could work and strive towards being better all the time, there will be pitfalls and relapses but that was okay, there would be days she would despise herself and stare longing at a bottle of pills or think of ways to end her miserable existence but now she knew it was okay to reach out and ask for help, she was not a burden or a stone around people's neck, she was human and sometimes she was sick and that was okay.

Lila smiled up at her ceiling, thinking of the stars that were reflective of the night sky, but she was thinking of those she had loved and lost, of her struggles and triumphs.

Her mind flashed back to one of the few good moments with her mother “I am so, so proud of you, I hope you remember that’ her jade green eyes were so earnest in that moment and Lila revelled in it.

“See how far I’ve come, Mum? Are you proud? I hope you are, I’ve tried so, so hard and I’ve come so far, I know there’s still so much for me to do but God. I’m trying. I’m trying” she whispered, her voice hoarse and tears slipped down her cheeks, her eyes filled with a pleading for her mother to understand.

After a few moments of cooling down and silent reflection, she sat up wiping at her eyes before moving to her bathroom, getting ready for the night, smiling at herself when she was done, pleased she had kept to her word for the year. it was already past midnight, somewhere near one in the morning as she pulled back her covers and slipped under them, curling up in contentment, the alcohol in her body relaxing, her mind wandered to the celebration of the year past, her family relaxing and watching the tv, alcohol being shared generously as they laughed over the card games they played before cheering down the countdown, Lila giving an obnoxious kiss to her dog before she had headed upstairs to reflect before sleep.

Tomorrow she would wake lazily in the afternoon, a slight headache with the sounds of her father pottering downstairs, probably attempting to make some bacon sandwiches while her elder brother berated him and tried to wrestle control leading to a playful argument that echoed through the house to the protest of her two other brothers-lightweights the pair of them- and she would think of how close she came to losing all of this, and she would smile at the thought of a new year to come. Eager for the challenge of life because she was strong enough to take it all on and more. To triumph.