The kind of life that I used to know has deteriorated and ceased to exist just like the way it was before. Who would've known that I would choose to tell the truth - the one I couldn't tell - today just before 13:00 hrs while hiding in the restroom. I hated the fact that I never learned how to talk. I still hate it. Talk as in communicate with the people that mean a lot to me. But communication was not possible when indoctrination stood in the way. And one day when I decided to go my own way, down the road no one else I know would go, my conscience started to haunt me. Every single day after that which lead me to question: What if freedom is just wishful thinking? Or just another kind of indoctrination?
Today the truth came out exclusively to my mum. I didn't speak the truth or ran after it. The truth - especially on the foundations of indoctrination - was unpredictable to me because it could either be my salvation or my doom. A friend or an enemy. A matter of life or death. I didn't want to cough it out or force it. I had to be careful. I have always waited for the right moment because I believe in giving things time to take their course instead of planning down to every detail. And so the right moment came today. And the truth came out on its own, in its own way.
And the moment I put my phone away I was staring into thin air, wondering what it must be like for the person at the other end of the line whose values and ideals are just as strong as mine used to be. I could have simply asked but I never learned how to, really, I've only been told with authority never to. There was and still is no language I could use to convey my message, to express myself in that moment.
At some point I am relieved and on another extent extremely terrified and full of uncertainties. Uncertain as to whether or not I explain myself or just let things once again take their course. As much as love my parents and recognize their efforts in having raised me, I still cannot turn away from the fact that all that I needed was room to grow. Not a religion to shackle me down with chains and then claiming that it's teaching me to fly.
I cannot explain why I went the road no one else I know dare go. All I know was that something took its course, something more powerful than indoctrination or authority, that told me to just go down that road. It wasn't God, it wasn't an angel, it wasn't a voice or a thought or a dream. It was a need. It was me. And so I had to and I never regret this decision even if hardly anyone I know understood or accepted this. In their eyes I should've been ashamed of myself for even trying. But it was a choice I had to make because I was so close to suicide - in my eyes (and hopefully in yours too) the worst choice to make.
I made myself the time and the space which I should've deserved as a child. I feel like I stopped growing at the age of six due to being put into religious school after that for almost a decade and only now... I had the chance to continue where everything stopped. Yet I've only been in a bigger space for 5 years. I took the opportunity to create and paint, and was shocked at the rate my brain is taking up new information and a new language in which I became fluent in in less than 2 years' time. I was a child again, learning fast. Learning things. Exploring my surroundings. Experiencing nature. Playing. And I see myself literally unfold. But I am only still eleven. By right I wouldn't have found my own identity or defined my own personality yet even though I know what I want to be. Heck, I have yet to go through mental puberty and the whole programme.
Despite the positive development there are still things - damaged from the past - which I can no longer repair or replace. Like the inner critic that while always be haunting me: the voices of power, control, influence and authority. After so many years of being raised that way... some of you may be able to relate... you will always be scarred. For life.
Breaking free from an idea that you were taught was supposedly the only true road is a long an painful process and I have been coping for over 10 years now. It took away a big chunk of me. Because even though I had a strictly religious upbringing, I made friends and have a family and an army of relatives who all shared the same values. There was always something going on somewhere. I met up with people my age and we spend time together. Everybody had everything in common. Especially when it came down to faith, settling down and starting a family. And sometimes the occasional love for the same taste in food.
But it's different now. The only friends I have are either in their 50s or 60s or scattered in every other country on earth. What we have in common now is room to grow and some vague memories of when and how we first got to know each other. I do wish to someday travel to see them.
And now there is no more same-tasting food. Sleep had always been at the minimum. So is eating. If I ever bring myself to then I have one meal a day. I've lost a lot of weight and when I saw myself on camera today while my classmates and I were filming for a project, I had to pull myelf together. I was actually so skinny... like I'm literally being eaten up from the inside. Maybe it's just my own messed up perception but it had only gotten worse. All the things that I used to do seem to just die off on their own, as if they were tired of this. Or maybe my brain is just saving the last few energy only for the sake of staying alive. Just one day at a time. All I needed was room to discover who I am but to have had the opportunity to do that costed me this much... energy.
This has been a long and personal reflection of what life has been like after I decided to walk away from the teachings of my parents, school, relatives and nation. It isn't always a walk in the part, sure I can breathe now. But the nightmare need time to stop. And as always I will give it the time it needs until it's ready.
So the first things to do right now is to feed my body the nutrients it needs and deserves.