The Rose That Grew out of the Concrete

it ain't really a poem, i just felt like it's something you probably could relate to

I spend most of my free time writing. Or reading. And a lot thinking. It’s been a strange year for me so far, I’ve changed my mind on a great deal. I feel like I’ve learnt a lot and unlearnt a lot. Spending time around different people will do that. Change my perspective. The way I look at a lot of life.

The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it
Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it
In order to protect itself from this mad city

Success is the main thing I’ve focused on for years. Academic success. Financial success. Social success. Sporting success. I felt for years like happiness would come with success. I’m not entirely sure where that came from but it feels to me like the environment I’ve been around for so long promoted that idea. Get a good job and you’ll be happy! Get in good shape and you’ll be happy! Get good friends and you’ll be happy! Get a nice girlfriend and you’ll be happy! I was trapped in this way of thinking. Not happy in the present and ever-chasing the next thing which would satisfy me.

I’ve had perfectionist tendencies as long as I can remember. When I was younger I could never take failure. I still struggle with it but it used to cripple me. I’m not sure where it came from but I avoided even trying a lot of things just because of the anxiety that came from possibly failing. My perception of myself depended almost entirely on feedback from other people. That’s why harmless offhand comments could ruin my day and cause me to question so much. They still stick with me. I remember my dad shouting at my little brother for crying in the kitchen of our old house when he was only a few years old. I’m not sure of the context at all or why it’s always stuck with me but I can recall it vividly. And it’s little things like that which have clung to me over the years. You can bet I tried my hardest to never cry in front of my dad after that. I love him, but we all make mistakes. And I’ve got to learn to love myself despite my mistakes too. Subconsciously relying on approval from others for my mental wellbeing isn’t a good idea at all. I have little to no control over it, and sometimes I’m not deserving of it either.

While consuming its environment
The caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive

Quickly finding that doing ‘well’ would impress people and earn me this external validation I craved, I began to look at everything I did as something to do well at. It’s a very easy thought pattern to slip into and makes everything into a competitive environment. Unsurprisingly this isn’t healthy and can cause conflict, physical or not. A lot of the time with myself. With so much focus on how good you are at a game or a sport, or how much you drink or whether you get with girls on nights out, turning recreational activities into contests sounds ridiculous but many a time I’ve had friends talk about this idea. Why being bad a certain Xbox game is such a big deal or even having some sort of leaderboard for a night out, with points based on how much you drink or girls you get with. I hate it. Playing Xbox or a night out to me should be a times to relax. The former to chill and have a bit of fun, the latter to let yourself go a bit; get drunk, have a good time and see where the night takes you. Maybe you go a club, maybe a bar or someone’s house. Maybe you get with someone, maybe you don’t. But this idea of turning something which should be a time to enjoy yourself into a source of competition where you have winners and losers is ridiculous. Why should we be declaring winners and losers on having fun? It’s something I was doing to myself subconsciously, feeling like I’d let myself down if I didn’t play as well as my mate or didn’t get with a girl and he did. Now I’ve realised how toxic that mindset is - not only to myself but to others too - and now I see it more clearly, I’m seeing it so openly displayed by those closest to me. I no longer feel pressured by them or anything but I also enjoy nights out with others much more than I do with the lads I grew up with. Nights at the club with mates from work or university have such differences I still struggle to describe them. It feels a lot less judgy, like we’re all there for the same reason, to just have a drink and enjoy ourselves. There’s no pressure to act in a certain way. No ‘losing’ if certain things don’t go your way, it’s just a time to enjoy yourself. 

I used to feel so much pressure being around certain people, like they’d only like me if I was a certain way. As if they’d all of a sudden shun me if they saw different sides of me: the side that writes poetry in a notebook or watches mental health and philosophy videos on YouTube. Looking back, there are people I’ve come across in life who wouldn’t like me if they knew all that. They would see me as less. But there are a hell of a lot of people who would still like me, and perhaps even more. And fuck anyone who doesn’t like me for who I am. I’m done with putting on a mask and acting in ways that don’t feel natural to me. It can be hard trying to just be me, cause at times I don’t know what me wants, but trying to do so is a hell of a lot of easier than trying to be someone I’m not.

One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him
But praises the butterfly
The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness and the beauty within the caterpillar
But having a harsh outlook on life, the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak
And figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits

I didn’t know what I wanted in life. I was doing what I felt like I ‘should’ be doing. Chasing the things I felt like I ‘should’ be chasing. I wasn’t happy so I looked to my view of society’s idea of happiness. Which from what I saw seemed to bright club lights, thumping music, copious amount of alcohol and getting with girls. I’ve had some great night outs in my life, amazing (albeit hazy) memories, but when I first went to university I wasn’t enjoying drinking and clubbing. I thought it must be the fault of the place. The clubs. The bars. The people. In hindsight I just wasn’t enjoying it. I wasn’t happy at all at the time and was using alcohol, bright lights and music to escape. But I was hearing about all my friends back home going out and enjoying it so I thought I ‘should’ be too. That’s no fault of anyone but myself. I thought what seemed to make other people happy would do the same for me. Plus I didn’t want to be different. When I was younger I’d been quite a ‘weird’ kid. I didn’t want to anymore. I’d begun to fit in more and longed to do so, leading me to believe things which weren’t true in an effort to convince myself I was like the people I was around. 

Really though we’re all different, and being like the people around you for the sake of it won’t make you any happier. Finding out that being true to myself, therefore making me different from others, only served to bring me closer to them was one of the biggest lessons I think I’ve ever learnt. However, before I learnt that, I was at a point where I wasn’t embracing these differences like I should’ve. Like I said, I was a ‘weird’ kid when I was younger. I was always reading books and writing stories instead of playing sport or whatever. However, when I started boxing I quickly realised this earned me some of the respect I felt would perhaps make me happier. 

I’ve always loved the sport and continue to love both participating in it and coaching it, though earlier this year my relationship with it was strained. Part of me has for years felt like I ‘should’ fight. It’s always the first question anyone ever asks me when I tell them I box. And I do want to. But there are times I’m unsure if I want it enough. Recently I quit the boxing gym I’ve been going to for years. In the time I’ve been at university, they’ve got new coaches and the whole culture of the gym seems to have shifted. When I went to a session the other evening I didn’t enjoy a minute of it, let alone learn and improve my boxing. Plus I’ve got other things I love to do with my time. Run. Read. Write. Watch westerns and gangster films. Build LEGO. There’s so much I’d neglected because I guess it didn’t get me the respect boxing did. And respect is again one of our measurements of success. And I followed the myth that success would make me happy.

There were times earlier this year my coaching took a poor turn. I’d show up late, throw together a half-arsed session and call it there. Other coaches helped the club tremendously through that time and despite my awful coaching, people still said they enjoyed the sessions. I’ll always be grateful for that because I did not at all live up to the role I’d taken on in the club and owe a lot to those around me. 

At the time, I blamed it on various things. Burnout. Stress for exams. All of that stuff. And all of it probably did affect me to a degree, but looking back, small things like that were more symptoms of the fact that I just wasn’t happy.

Despite reaching a lot things I thought would make me happy, I wasn’t. I was a very well-respected and liked boxing coach. Had a lot of amazing mates both at home and at university. Was in a sort of situationship with a girl I really liked. University results were going quite well. I had an internship lined up for summer. I seemingly had ‘success’. Yet I was still breaking down alone in my room, spending evenings crying about all sorts of unreasonable shit. Started to escape through overworking. I was in the library most of my waking moments. My energy levels were at all time low. I neglected my own diet and fitness and was on autopilot through the sessions I was coaching, and in the end through a lot of my life.

Already surrounded by this mad city
The caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon
Which institutionalizes him
He can no longer see past his own thoughts, he's trapped

When you have so much dependence on external factors for your happiness, and base so much of it in the future, you are never going to be truly happy. I had some amazing experiences earlier this year and was the happiest I’ve ever been. But soon after those I’d return to the depressive slump. I went to the League Cup final with my dad and brother and watched our team lift the trophy as massive underdogs. I went from tears of happiness during the game to a near-breakdown as I got back to my house as the ecstasy of the game subsided and everything else came flooding back. It wasn’t like anything that day had happened to particularly set things off, it was just that life at that point was just too much for me. And the wave of immense happiness earlier that day had numbed it, but temporarily. Similar things happened later, some of the best times I’ve ever had followed by days or weeks plagued by anxiety, dread and numbness. A big misconception about depression is that you’re always sad. Some of the memories I made earlier this year are some of my favourite times ever despite the fact I’d call those same months some of the worst.

Looking back at all of it, so much is all so obviously self-destructive. However, as I’m sure many people know, it’s a lot harder to see the unreasonableness of your actions or thoughts in the moment, rather than in retrospect. I became so entrenched in my ways of thinking that I couldn’t see any other way. I was convinced that the path I was on would bring me happiness, despite my mental health deteriorating the further along it I went. I was stuck in a mental prison of my own creation.

When trapped inside these walls certain ideas take root, such as
Going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city
The result?
Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant
Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations
That the caterpillar never considered
Ending the internal struggle

I’d neglected both the people and things closest to me. I was eating poorly. Wasn’t going the gym. Coaching awfully. The girl I was seeing ended things between us cause of something I did. I stopped really caring about my university grades. The only reason I revised was to escape my thoughts. I was far too low. I didn’t know exactly what needed to change but I knew it needed to happen soon.

Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different
They are one and the same

I came home after my second year of uni and tried to sort my head out. I spent a month off of social media, YouTube, most of the internet really. Just tried to silence the empty noise. Spent my days working out, reading and journaling. June was a great month really. Throughout the month I realised a lot of what I’ve written here, and tried to set myself on a better path. Tried to figure out myself and embrace all of it, improving the parts I could.

And part of accepting all the aspects of me is also coming to terms with certain things. I find it important for me to look at why I felt and acted in certain ways but it’s also vital for me to acknowledge that this isn’t me shifting blame or fault, and that I take full responsibility for things I’ve done. My mental health is my responsibility and it’s my fault if my actions cause me or someone else hurt, no matter the reasons behind them. It’s important to come to terms with how I’ve acted and acknowledge the guilt and shame I feel about some of my actions. It’s something I may never be able to shake off completely but that’s fine, it’s there for a reason and I know it’ll disappear when its job is done, and if it never fully does that’s how it’s meant to be. 

Paradoxically, realising this also makes the sense of guilt and shame feel less too. Like the fact that I acknowledge its existence and that it has a objective to accomplish, an objective that will better me as a person, is part of the effect it should have on me, as such it lessens the effect it needs to have. 

I go out clubbing again now. I still go out and come back home in the early hours of the morning. But I really truly enjoy it, like I hadn’t regularly in a long while. I don’t feel like I should be doing this or that. I just am there for a good time. A time to be free. Have a few drinks and dance. Talk to people I know or meet new people. Dance with them. Enjoy the music. The vibe. The night. Just enjoy it. And that’s how I’m trying to take life. There are no things I should be doing, no path I should be on. I’m on my own path, making the trail through the forest as I go, my view of the future blocked by the bushes and trees. So there’s no point stressing out that I can’t see too far ahead, or that I feel like I’m a bit behind others at times. Because they’re in their own forest, struggling along just as I am. Not ahead of me, just on a different track.

And I still face shit, I still face dark thoughts but I just gotta get past them. Gets easier the more I do it. It’s a big part of why I write, putting it all on paper makes me see things in a different light. Like of course the world’s a better place with me in it, no matter what a little voice in my head may sometimes say. And to you reading this, the world’s a better place with you in it too, I promise you that <3

Beginning partly in ode to Tupac’s The Rose That Grew from Concrete, I found myself writing this a few weeks back:

Would you trust the rose that grew out of the concrete
If you felt its thorns, would you still call it beautiful
Struggling to grow in its tough environment
Would you blame it or give it pity
Would you love it, nurture and care for it
Or would you crush it underfoot
‘Cause it’s not as pretty as the rose in the field
Maybe more stunted, less easy on the eye
Does it make it any lesser
Or will you help it grow all the same?