Everyone has one
of these, don’t they? Demons of their
past… Sounds so dark and poignant. Something only the male protagonist of a
Mills and Boon novel can have. But let’s not knock it about, shall we? Because
that was what they were like when my teeny tiny adolescent self was battling
them. They were dark (not the racist kind), shape changing, with talons and
fangs and, with glowering eyes. Compared to them, the “monsters” in my closet
and under my bed were like the baby loony toons.
It was
anti-climactic, the way I had one of the most crucial revelations in this short
life of mine, and that was; Humans are the scariest species ever to walk to
face of the Earth. Not the giant felines or canines. Nor the creatures of the
night. Nor angels or demons. Why? Because animals only ever one side to
themselves. There is a predictability to their behaviour. An angels is only
meant to be the messenger of God and the symbol of goodness. And demons are
only ever meant to be evil.
But humans are like
onions; they have too many layers to them and they always make you cry. My
demons were these onion-y humans. Only humans have the ability to change
character and personality at will, putting on and discarding masks without a
moment’s hesitation. It is only now that I find it fascinating, but back then I
thought I was thrown in Hell.
Helping hands
turned into taloned claws, smiles turned into mouths baring fangs,
acknowledging eyes turned into cutting, judgemental glares that I couldn’t
escape from. It was all too confusing to me as to why people were behaving the
way they were when I had done nothing to them. I could never understand why the
world was so intent on snuffing out innocence and goodness.
Ultimately, I was
able to push through the maelstrom of malice and walk into the light scarred,
bruised but freshly enlightened. However, though, I managed to get away from
the part of my life, I began to hate my scars and the ones that inflicted them
upon me. This hate later extrapolated to the human population in general.
I was okay with
that, though. Not getting close to anyone, learning to loving to be alone with
myself, and not depending upon anyone for anything- until I started college.
When I came to Christ, I walked into a classroom of 100 young, bustling minds.
100 more people to hate. Yay! But as time progressed, I realized some people
didn’t deserve the hate I was so blindly putting on them. Some claimed that I
was important to them despite my prickly personality which got me thinking; was
I really doing the right thing?
It didn’t take long
for me to find an answer. I knew I had to leave the unpleasant memories of my
past behind if I truly wanted to enjoy my present and my present. I gad give
the people close to me a chance to get to know the real me and give myself the chance to get to know them. I
had to be exempted from asking myself why I couldn’t handle the past with more
sense, with more grace. Why wasn’t I grown up enough to face and fight the
battle instead of running away and crying my eyes in a counselling room? Why was
I so hung up on victim blaming?
Forgiveness is a
difficult thing to achieve. To accept the fact that I was a victim and I had
nothing to answer for, whilst at the time try to understand the motives of my
demons and empathize with them was an idea not only foreign to me but it was
also unthinkable.
To me forgiveness
was weakness and absolutely unnecessary. The rage and mistrust that was birthed
within as a result of my experiences in school, worked as a convenient wall and
weapon that I could lash out with whenever boundaries were pushed. Sadly
enough, I was aware of this, but sitting inside that wall, sizzling in my
self-loathing and hatred, I found that I’d rather wallow in this unbearable yet
familiar heat rather than explore the unfamiliar and the potentially/ hurtful
world.
But in an
anti-climactic turn of events, I find myself pondering over the articles I have
to write for my assignments and all I can think of are my family and friends.
Though I cannot say that I trust them with my heart, I can say that I give more
than the benefit of doubt.
As for my demons,
all I had to do was RIDDIKULUS!
The
black shapes, talon and fangs morphed into fat, pink-cheeked naked cherubs that
I blew kisses to from time to time.