who am I

In times of loss and hardships it is far more difficult to know who you are. I have never known exactly who I was. I knew where I came from, and what made me who I am, but I never knew who I was meant to be. Some days I think I know. It will hit me that maybe this is who I am meant to be, and then I will forget. This may sound horrible, but when my brother was here I new exactly who I was, what my role was. I was the glue. I didn't make waves, I listened to everyone, I did exactly what was expected of me. I did this for a lot of reasons. I knew that if I made a wave, or did something I wasn't supposed to the world around me would collapse, or at least that is what it always felt like. My brother wasn't perfect, and who really is. He learned the lessons he learned through trial and error. And with that came a lot of strain on our family. I was always terrified to mess up. I knew my parents were already worried about one of us, I didn't want to be the reason they completely lost it.

My life consisted of me being the strong one. I was never expected to be that by anyone but myself, but that is how I defined myself. I took on the personal responsibility of being the optimistic, silver-lining finder, and overly faithful one. When dark days hit, I was the one who would try to lighten up the situation. I refused to believe that life was meant to be this horrible, that bad things don't just keep coming, and one day things were bound to be okay again. So I put all my energy into faking the smile, listened to fight after fight over what was expected, and I fought back the tears. In all honesty I put a lot of pressure on myself. I felt like it was my job to not let the walls cave in. I think if my family ever knew that back then, they would be devastated that I felt that way. So I never said a word. I don't remember saying anything these last six years. I remember going through the motions, and not stirring the pot. And I was always striving to be the "picture perfect"child, and as I did that I think I lost who I was really supposed to be.

That was who I was at least who I thought I was. Then when Taylor died I lost myself. Everything I thought I was, wasn't there anymore, and the person I thought I needed to be somehow was nonexistent. Every dream I had thought was what I wanted didn't make sense anymore. All the goals I set for myself were gone. And the person who made me who I was, was gone with all of it. At first I still tried to be that overly optimistic person. I remember when my cousin and aunt told me he was gone, I was in shock, it didn't seem real. I didn't want to believe that this was how it ended. After years of heartache that this was the only way it could end. When I called my parents, and it was far more real, I remember being the silver lining finder once again. I knew what I told them was true, but it didn't make it hurt any less. I knew he was healed from his earthly pains, and that he was with our grandma, and in our other family members arms, and he was okay. But it didn't make it any better. At first it did. I did get peace from that fact in the weeks that followed. But now that doesn't make it any better. I find it harder and harder to find those silver linings, and to see the brighter side of things. I want to more than anything, but I just can't seem to.

I still believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I pray in my heart everyday that my family has finally reached the top of this mountain we've been climbing for years, and that soon we can have peace, and years of calm for a while. I pray that my parents know that they are the actual glue that kept us together through the storm, and that one day they can have peace to know what I know, that they did nothing wrong, and were and are amazing parents to me and tay. I hold onto the strength I had back then, in hopes that it carries onto who I am now. I may not know exactly who that is anymore, but I know one day I will know again. I am learning to let go of the guilt I carry with me everyday, knowing that no one holds me accountable for what has happened, and I had no part in anything. One day I will explain that, but for now trust me when I say I am full of guilt, but have learned that the guilt I feel isn't mine to carry.

One day I will find myself. The new version of myself that I am destined to become. I pray to find her soon, because I am sick of feeling lost, and afraid of the future. I have never felt this before, and it terrifies me. So for now I search for who I am now, and what I am supposed to be. The journey ahead is uncertain, and scary but I know that it will get less scary. Everyday the light comes, and a new day begins, and that is just the knowledge I need to know that life will go on, and I will find who I am. Eventually.