I won’t lie—I used to hate you.

For the first 20-something years of my existence, your reality was all I knew.

You disrupted my peace and turned my world upside down without my permission.

I asked myself, “Why did you have to choose me?”

You made life seem bleak and colorless. You turned happiness into distant fantasy that was out of grasp. You suffocated me with torturous thoughts and paralyzing anxiety, rendering me helpless and starving for an escape.

I hated you with everything I had. I wanted you to leave me alone—to spare me from your madness. Yet, you never seemed to listen to my desperate cries for help. You seemed intent on keeping me hiding away in the darkness, with no hope of finding the light.

I would wake up some mornings to glimpse a sliver of tranquility, but it wasn’t long before you rushed in and destroyed my momentary respite. Oh, how I wished I could exchange you for a more stable version of you. One that didn’t seem to get off on basking me in confusion and endless misery.

From my fuming outbursts to my deadening days of hiding under the covers, you served me up a buffet of constant torment. I resorted to mind-numbing, soul-sucking medications and every form of therapy in the book. I prayed for an ounce of solace, hoping I could wipe away whatever karmic footprint might be causing me to suffer in your grip. But, to no avail.

Sleep was one of the only ways I could get away from you.

I was going through the motions of living and breathing just like everyone else, yet my insides were burning with agony. I had no control over your episodes of impulsiveness, uncontrollable rage, or even your subtler melancholy. I lost myself to you, and lost my power along the way. I didn’t even realize that I was a beautiful, loving being who deserved a stable life.

Under your heavy reign, I separated myself from you. I made you my arch nemesis. I gave up on ever making peace with you (and perhaps even loving you), simply because you allowed me to drown in sorrow for so long. Yet, the more I fought against you, the harder it was to survive.

Then, as if struck by lightning, I woke up and realized my mistake.

If I was going to make it and eventually calm you down, I would need to learn to love you just as you were.

I had to love your craziness and your aggression alike, and even your instances of overpowering despondency. It was not easy to love you, because I didn’t feel any love in return, but I kept holding on and caressing you tenderly nonetheless.

Before long, once I started to accept you for who you were and what you had in store for me, I started tasting small slices of solitude and harmony. I stopped resisting you and fearing what lay ahead, but instead welcomed your presence as you were, with open arms.

You turned out not to be so evil after all. You were simply hurting. You needed my affection, not my judgment. So that is exactly what I gave you, equipping myself with tools to manage your madness, while loving you in the process.

You had a purpose and were making me stronger, despite all of the obstacles you continued to throw my way. You didn’t hate me—you actually needed me more than I could have ever imagined. But, I was too blind and busy resisting you to realize that.

If I ever aspire to love myself unabashedly and grow beyond your limitations, I must find ways of seeing the good in you, as well as accepting your flaws. You haven’t let me off the hook, nor have I found complete stability, but you are my good old crazy, impassioned mind, and because you are a part of me, I love you.

~

Author: Shirin Karimi Tararani

Image: Minoru Nitta/ Flickr

Editor: Khara-Jade Warren