Happy Birthday to me

Yesterday was my birthday and it was a strange feeling. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine to make it this far. I always tell people that I am living in my extra time, as I should have already died, when I was a few years old. During that time, everybody kept telling me that I was too young to go, that I still had a whole life ahead of me. But they don't understand what it feels like to continuously get damaged by people, when nobody is looking, and whenever I spoke up about it, nobody believed me or supported me. I was too little to be in such a horrible survival mode. Like a punching bag waiting to get pushed around and with no hands to protect or defend myself. It has really made me question whether those people who told my parents that I was a waste of rice (Chinese saying that loosely means that whatever food they feed me with is the same as throwing it in the garbage) and that they should just abandon me, when I was a baby, were right. They said that there was no way to cure my eyes and severe brain and eye damage was to be expected in the future (no doctors, but they thought this was okay to state as the truth, even though they knew nothing), which requires a lot of money to treat. Obviously, none of that happened and I grew up perfectly fine, except for the who everybody considers creepy, moving-on-its-own eyes and the continuous physical and mental abuse that I suffered from others. I asked myself many times whether I made the right decision to persevere. There were many bad times, but there were some small, sporadic moments of happiness too. But that's life. Nobody has it easy, we all struggle through life. The darker it gets, the brighter a ray of light becomes.

When I was really young, I planned this year to be the turning point of my life. I was supposed to be old and wise enough to make this decision (not exactly, as I still feel like a little girl :) ). Either I give up trying or I will finally do my utmost best to make something out of my life like everybody else. As I never understood why I needed to be on this planet (just to suffer all the time and act as a punching bag for people to vent their frustration on?). I never really cared about fighting for my life. Sometimes, I did fight as hard as I could, as if I didn't look out for myself, nobody else would. But most of the time, I just dragged my sore and lifeless body around like a bag of boulders. Ignoring all the sharp pebbles on the road ahead and the branches that scratched the sides of my body. I have suffered more than enough. I never let myself to shamelessly get too happy, while someone I wasn't able to save, could be suffering at that very moment. I never healed my wounds, hoping that they could act as evidence to back up my story. I never left the house, unless I really needed to. I stayed away from everyone, fearing that someone would take advantage of the sorry state that I was in. I hoped to smoother the people who hurt me with kindness, but they just saw it as me being fake. The angry and aggressive side that was forced to come out to protect myself all those years, must be the real me. Perfectly, fitting with my appearance. I cannot say that all was a waste of time, because I did convert a couple out of the hundred people, who had a bad first impresion of me. But as time is precious (extra precious for me, when my body hurts and I barely have any energy in me), I no longer want to waste it on trying to be normal, trying to fit in, and trying to get people to accept me. I want to go for my dreams, develop myself in the areas I am interested in, and worry if I have enough money to pay next month's rent (something really normal to most people, but it is something I never cared about, as I didn't see a future for myself). All those years, I did the best I could and I fought as hard as I could, but nothing changed. It was like an egg (me) hitting a large rock, but after the initial disappointment, I feel all was worth it. I no longer feel I owe someone anything. I can let go of the anger and grudge that I was carrying all this time. It is no longer in my hands. I will let the higher powers and karma do their work. 

It is really scary, as I no longer have a clear and simple goal in my mind and no visible end point to look forward to. Everything is uncertain and I have never made plans past this point. I thought the pain and fatigue would have already crushed me. Doctors told me as a kid that I would lose my eyesight gradually as I would get older, so I looked at everything extra long and at every detail. I even practiced memorizing people's faces by using my fingers and closing my eyes (but failed terribly). It didn't happen, but it still might, so I will keep looking at all the beautiful things this world has to offer and store every beautiful view that I come across in my heart. I always felt that there was no place for me in this world, that I was a burden and someone who nobody cares about. If that's really true, I should carve out a road for myself and become someone special. 

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