I am alive… I have repeated this sentence so many times during the last days, and you will probably know why, if you have followed my recent posts.
Now, after experiencing such a horrible thing, I realize what does having more days to live, mean.
I knew my limits, they were much restricted than the ones I set to myself; my rights, the lost ones. I knew the feeling of insecurity, the feeling of being alone to fight and I finally realized that at my 22 years old, I can’t start a war, I have to do with small battles till I get much stronger than this.
The idea of being my auto-defender was a hypothesis that I confirmed after this event.
Today, 21 days after the famous night that taught me the hard way to count on one and only one person: myself, I don’t feel ok.
Nor my family either my friends or lover gave a shit to whether my physical or my emotional pains.
This is not hard. It is just killing.
I am disgusted of people, of the Algerian system, of the associations of help that wait for you to die to do something, I am disgusted of those I loved and cared about who left me when I needed them.
I am disgusted of my incapacity to act, of my tears, of the awful feelings I have, of the nightmares filling what used to be my nice moments of sweet dreams.
And I am so sorry to see my life going without me….
I miss my smile, my energy, my hard working spirit, my shining days, my dreams, the ones I left and the ones that left me.
I miss being myself. I miss getting back to a normal life. I miss getting up in the morning with a positive thinking without remembering again that part of my human being existence that had gone forever.
I, honestly, miss so many other things that may be for you are so banal, so usual, so evident but which became for me needs that I am not able to satisfy.
It seems that Maslow has created a weird pyramid. Except breathing, there is no other need I will reach being a third world citizen.