Life is like a battlefield. That should be an obvious statement. A particularly high death toll appears in the battlefield of a person’s mind, though. In my opinion, a person’s mind is their worst enemy. You criticize yourself, and you judge yourself to an extent that no one else does. You see invisible flaws within yourself, and you dwell on nonexistent humiliations that never actually happened. In some situations throughout life, a person pushes themselves to the point that they are forced to let go of the things that they truly love, because they fabricated a lie for themselves that they need to let it go. In particular, I am referring to sports. Or school. Or anything regarding a skill that you feel the pressure to build up in order match and surpass another person’s. For me, this is something that comes back to chase me nearly every night.
Fortunately, it is not always as damaging as it could be. Everything could always be worse. If you love something-for example, to dance, or to run-then don’t ever give up on it just because someone else is better, faster, or more flexible than you. This issue resulted in a severe lack of self-esteem from years of draining self-deprecating thoughts and negative comments from others. Having said that, even though continuing to follow-through with what you love against the thoughts of yourself and others is the best thing to do, it unavoidably breaks through the strongest and determined exterior in order to tear you down. By chasing your dreams, you may destroy every bit of self-worth that you have ever believed you had along the way. In order to succeed, you must be willing to sacrifice something. If you can’t sacrifice anything, then you will never be able to hold on to the things that you love.
So, I loved to dance. And I still do. But, I went through the harshest times because of it. My mind turned into a twisted, macabre trap. My heart turned into an aching stone, hanging heavy in my chest, barely pulsing. No matter what I tried to tell myself, and no matter how many times I could have been reminded about how I had another talent or something else to focus on, I was never happy. I pushed myself to train until every part of me was torn and bloody. Although dance was only one out of many aspects of my life, it hung over every single fraction of my world like a dreary fog, rendering me unable to stand up and find joy in anything else. Where I once was filled with passion and optimism, there I stood, doused in bitter, twisted lies, being crushed into the dirt by relentless warhorses. My mind was a foul place, and still is, from time to time.