The drugs gave a sense of empowerment, but a fleeting one to only be a temporary patch on an everlasting problem. Once removed, lust and desire was incorporated, hoping that a high like rush of love could further the euphoria, to feel like a relationship would make me feel belonged to something outside of myself. But this too has been extinguished, making me feel like a small shadow in an infinite world of expectations. After these let downs, I was more bitter and dead inside than ever before, which left me with nothing left but to leave my old self behind. Be what I see in my own eyes as something impenetrable, being built off the will power that is forged in the flames of every disappointment and rejection I've overcome so far. Only living in the hopes that the rejection, pain, disappointment, drug abuse and toxic relationships were all a means to push me towards my fated path, hoping everything had to go down that way. Believing in struggles fueling creativity, allowing it to make someone stronger for having experienced it. No longer dreaming about what could of been, that is simply an unhealthy relationship to the past, and wishing our yesterdays to be different will only lead to further depression. It was time for me to escape that, in hopes that one day I can tell my story of how I've overcome what I've gone through so that my story can become part of someone else's survival guide.