CALL FOR ALL THE “V”

Everything has now become a struggle. Against someone, against something, against the rival, against the rich, against those who do not do, against those who do, against the beautiful, against the ugly. Against judgment that shows just as much judgment, against reason that shows just as much compulsion, against the true, against the false. I saw an advertisement for a woman who “has been fighting obesity for years”. Against. Those behind the scenes know very well what it means to animate the feeling of struggle instead of confrontation. They know that counter strengthens and expands exactly what it is believed to be fighting for. Going against a physical problem, instead of understanding it, as with everything else … gives you back tripled. Keep fighting, keep going against you.

Aren’t we also like that giant of the forest? Sometimes we survive the rare storms, the avalanches, the harsh blows of existence, and then let our hearts devour the little insects of worry, insects that one would be able to squeeze between the thumb and forefinger. Anxiety is not mine, I know. It is something that lives outside, but which I have brought inside and which has now made its home inside me. Anxiety is not mine, anxiety is not me. It is not a war against myself, it is a war against what is around me. I was too, you know, tired of fighting against life, of always having to find a shortcut, a way out, of feeling inadequate, of looking for an alternative to the future, of not knowing how to be myself because it would not have been. popular; tired of the past that slips into the chest like blades, of indecision, of the emptiness inside that seems to speak, that seems to say: “It will all end”.

I feel alone, I stare into space, I wonder how long this will last, I hug the pillow, I cry in silence. They tell me to do it alone, to pull myself up and fight, but the weight I carry is too heavy and only makes me sink lower and lower, deeper and deeper. I find myself in total darkness and no one cares, there is no one there, I only hear the sound of my breath. Memories crowd my mind, my chest hurts, now I even struggle to breathe, I feel like a body without a soul, I feel trapped in a cage. You have to fight, they said. You have to fight they say. But they don’t know, they don’t know that girl no longer exists. That girl, that I was, stayed there in that room.