Eyes Without A Face

I was living in an illusion for far too long.

I have spent most of my life unhappy, drinking poison and slowly rotting from the inside out on what I thought were the expectations of everyone around me. It seemed that my family and friends were all too happy to see and believe in this illusion I created to reflect back to all onlookers. I fed and lived on the consumption of validation and acceptance, while my soul continued to shrink with each passing day. Suddenly, life began to change drastically, no longer moving through my existence by brail, both eyes slowly opened one eyelash at a time.

I could feel this ball of toxic, bottomless, sadness brewing within me. The feeling had become so familiar that I stopped even acknowledging it. Instead, I would attend class, washing down my homework with opiates and benzodiazepines, knowing when I ran out (which I always did) that my seat in the room would remain empty until I could reload my stock. This went for everything in my life. When I was unable to appease my addiction then I was unable to do ANYTHING else as well.

This went on for years. Years of me getting up early in the morning to run 5 miles, coming home to shower and make my way to class, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, volunteering within my community and working five nights a week, all stirred the vortex of emptiness within. During this time, everyone was completely unaware that upon opening my eyes, before putting a toe on the ground, I’d reach over to my nightstand, open the drawer, pull out my stash of Norco, put ten (yep, 10) in my palm and throw them in my mouth, washing them down with a sip of water, just so I could feel “normal” again. After about 20 minutes I’d chase that down with coffee and Clonapin. I found myself in-prisoned in my own body. Everyone was so proud of me, how could I stop taking the only thing that fuels my day? I mean, I couldn’t physically function without these things anymore.

Every cell within my body was extinguished with poison. I didn’t know what feelings, other than polluted remnants of hopelessness, felt like any longer. I often wished I knew how everyone else around me could live and function in a world without these demonic morsels of soul sucking pellets being shoved down their throats. I didn’t realise that when I stopped diluting myself I still would be drowning in sorrow. Even though I wasn’t living off of norco anymore, the internal pit of misery continued to grow.

Everything was consistently unsatisfying. The food of life remained tasteless as ever. My constant need to incessantly seek validation without overtly seeking validation was exhausting. I’d jog to maintain the fallacy of “health”, shop to maintain the fallacy of “acceptance”, and devour reality television to maintain the fallacy of “happiness”, all to no avail. Choking on medication, starved on nutrition and void on happiness, I constantly questioned the meaning of life. As I began answering this question, I had no idea that everything I’ve ever known was going to change.

It was in 2014 when I met my, now, husband. He was slightly prickly in that he never quite said the “right” things but what he did say always resonated. It felt as if the hand of my soul reached out to hold the hand of his soul effortlessly. I was finally home! One by one the fat of my life began falling by the wayside. Through his strength and example, I began to re-evaluate every aspect of my life, my thoughts, my notions and my ideals. I’d ask myself questions, such as “is getting a masters degree important to me or does it serve the expectations of someone else”, “do I want children because ‘that’s what I’m supposed to do’ or is it okay to be the original engineer of what my life looks like”, “are designer clothes, designer cars and designer houses really the recipe for a designer life”? Slowly but surely my purpose became clear; my purpose in life was to attain happiness.

The synthetic happiness being peddled by our governments, displayed on our devices and repeated by our neighbors, wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I was on a journey of monumental importance. The happiness I would find, couldn’t be bought, sold, amalgamated, or fabricated, only discovered. It could, however, be shared and enjoyed by everyone around me (this was a bonus I did not anticipate).

As if looking at the world through new lenses, I could see again. Suddenly, air became refreshing, colors had depth to their brightness, laughing wasn’t reserved for a text abbreviation, smiling was passed on contagiously, food was consumed with love for nutrients, and that hollowed out hole inside began to vanish. Nothing is more important than evolving and sustaining this way of life.

Far too often we barter our time for money so we can accumulate more things that’ll attempt to mimic this peaceful feeling. The stuff we collect never seems to quite cut it. The time we trade is time we’ll never get back so we subconsciously replace it with physical representations worn on our bodies, displayed on our walls, parked in our driveways and hung around our necks. None of which has ever made any of us happy and yet like idiots we work harder, we buy more, we sleep less, we sleep walk through our lives not listening to what our spirits are pleading with us to hear. Happiness is not an external factor found outside of ourselves. Happiness is a continuous discovery of the depths of your soul relating to the world around you. We don’t relate to electronic devices or fashion, we relate to nature, other’s and ourselves. There once was a time that I lived shackled to a beautiful illusion, now I only live free under the sun of my co constructed reality; my co, being @dandays and I. This existence suits us all, opening our eyes is the only way to shatter the illusion. May peace be with you all ✌️.

Thanks for reading.