Schizophrenia. One word. This is just one word. But, this one damn word defined who I am today. A crucial block on the foundation of the person I have become and will ever be. This one word, I never knew it then, is the reason for so much heartaches and pain that even now is still buried deeply in my bones, carved to my flesh, and seared to my soul.
People always say that our childhood will always be a part of us. Every lesson learned, every affection earned, every pain that burned are little puzzle pieces formed together to make the image of us. I believe them. Because, I still feel the shadows of my past lurking beneath the surface, just waiting for a trigger that will unleash it- destroying everything I tried to build from the shambles I call my life.
I used to think crazy is normal. Will that not be the case for everyone if they grew up with crazy? I don't really know because I can't simply put myself in someone else's shoes and declare that I understand them. That would be an insult. We never know. We never really know how people feel unless we have felt that ourselves. And even then, we might still not understand. We are different people living with different circumstances. Every factor could make a world of difference. For me, that big and defining factor is my mother and every crazy thing she did that I thought was normal. All those crazy talks, strange paranoia, anti-social tendencies, and neglectful behavior--I grew up thinking this is normal. My kind of normal. A normal that no one around me really know about because they are already locked down inside my heart, never to see the light of day again. If it ever did, that would be the day that everyone realizes that I never have know their kind of normal; I will be just someone different.
P. S. Finally wrote something blog-like.
As the title states, this is just a glimpse of who I am. I put it out for the world to see not because I want sympathy and all those whatnot. I just want to write, to take it out of myself and let it go where it will go.