SURVIVOR'S GUILT

I'm from a place I would never trade being from given the option. It's small, broken in more ways than one, flawed and so forth but it has more potential than one can put into words and the vibrant, infectious spirit of my people could light up the darkest of lands. It's a country that's filled with survivors and winners! I love my city; NO, I LOVE MY COUNTRY! After you leave a place you're fond of, and start to inhale the perks and joy of a new land, you realise how many things you missed and things you never had the chance to achieve or partake in due to that place not having the capacity to deliver. You also start to understand how toxic your past environment may have been and how much of a blessing living in a new territory is. Throughout this process of realisation, that overwhelming sense of love you have for such place may start to dwindle and a strong feeling of pity, sorrow, and disgust; and appreciation; and possibly regret may develop but it's key to remember a tree is strongest at its roots no matter how damaged those roots may seem, it's worth nurturing them the best you can). I feel like I'm digressing... Keep reading.

I think when you're from where I'm from or just poverty in general, every one thinks of escapism in their own way and to their own extreme. But when you finally escape, I think no one truly accounts for the guilt that streams from the tears you shred for those you left behind, or those that you helped escaped, only to witness them wasting the opportunities life has granted or those life gave a chance to escape whilst in the same breath stealing their safety net leading to their death or misfortunes. I've seen people give up on life rather quickly and I understand why. Where I'm from people tend to think once you 'escape' to a foreign country then you are living gloriously, that you're simply not in real need of riches or those past needs have significantly lessen - that's a big fallacy. I can honestly say despite being a product of the ghetto I truly didn't realised the true harshness of living until I moved overseas - mass wrong convictions, homelessness (sleeping on floors,  or witnessing how many bodies can fit on a bed or a sofa), starvation, spiritual bankruptcy, paedophilia, human trafficking, the harsh reality of a 9-5, police brutality, idle murder, discrimination, escorting, racism, rape, suicide, drugs, abandonment, abuse, fraud, cyber bullying and the list continues. Don't get me wrong these exist in third world countries but not to such extreme. The 6 degree of separation then falls to 2. I've experienced a few of the listed and I can say it makes you thankful to look in the mirror and still be able to genuinely smile.

I know people that would kill to be in my situation and it hurts because I feel like I'm not making the most of my position regardless of how hard I try. I would be working my ass off and it still feels like I'm not doing my people justice. It's as though I have taken an ounce of motivation and sheer will power from each of them and it's being wasted on the efforts of a 9-5 job or lacking to successfully promote my passions rather than charging full force into building an empire. I remember there was a time in my life I would work 2 jobs and I will go home write and record videos, then sleep 2-4hrs and repeat day after day and I would still feel like I was doing the bare minimum - years later and here I am treading the same lines, feeling unhelpful, as well as a sense of impeding anticlimactic destruction and I'm not sure if I want to move out the way of this runaway train coming at me.

I can say I've always thought that in some way, shape or form I would be a positive impact on my country like Bob Marley or Marcus Garvey and I feel thankful to have made it this far but even writing these posts makes me feel a sense of bitterness sometimes. Like I'm not truly fulfilling my purpose just simply buying time or wasting it to avoid doing what I should be doing. Truth is I feel guilty about being the one to have escaped the cold brash force of the ghetto when so many people deserve the opportunity, I feel even worse knowing that by now, more than a decade later after leaving my country, some other soul could have been a millionaire opening schools and bettering the fundamentals of my country to better the lives of my people and yet I have not. I feel 'sometimes' like the wrong person was given this opportunity but here I am. I just shred a tear and continue to hustle. As I write this I'm thinking about all the mess I've been through, and how insignificant every giant step I try to take feel. It's bizarre how my footsteps could feel so cosmic and trivial at the same time. I came across a girl yesterday, I met awhile back and though my encounters with her prior to yesterday was limited to small talk, the joy she expressed from seeing me is edged in my brain, it made me think that maybe I brought that joy to the lives of many, and for a moment it soothe my 'why me' conundrum. But if all I'm here to do is make people feel good that's not enough and it begs the question what is enough. When will I feel like I'm doing enough?

I think we're all familiar with PTSD right? I think that's what this is. I'm not trying downplay it or say its the same extreme soldiers or moms post birth suffer from but I think an ongoing raging war with your soul fucks with your mental in the same manner. I been through a lot to get the little I got in this life, I fought a lot more demons than I care to discuss and endured far more than I wanted to but I done it to get by and to help my family. I can't apologise for that and I shouldn't have to, similarly to this survival complex I am enduring. God made his or her choice and we all just have to live with it. I'm not in the position I'd like to have been in at this point in my life but here I am. We make decisions we have to live with so deal with your haunting truths unapologetically. I will say that I still believe I will make a change so cosmic, it's revolutionary and this world won't ever forget it - that's just my destiny. I just hope that along the way I can help my country, my people, my family, the ones I love and the man in the mirror (especially the latter) in more ways than expected/wished.