Paradise Lost: Finding The Paradise

As the world passing by, I recalled a conversation I recently had where it was about how I view my flaws over magnifying glass. When it’s easier for people to judge others, I judge harshly on myself and rarely on others. “ you're not stupid, you're stubborn” Said Anne one time when I was telling her how stupid I was because I couldn’t muster up the courage to ask for help.

Help : to make it possible or easier for someone to do something, by doing part of the work yourself or by providing advice, money, support, etc.: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/help

Asking for help is extremely difficult to me. For someone claiming to be direct, when it comes to asking for help, I beat around the bush.There were many instances when I was about to die but I was still unwilling to ask for help. When I was strapped with money, I would rather starve and find ways to fix it on my own rather than asking for help. It happened throughout my life that even today, I still struggle asking for a help.

I find it so intriguing that I have built my life around the idea that I have to be able to do it all by myself. Fix a tire, a light bulb, treating wounds, knowing medicine and life saving first aid, I learned almost everything that if I were to live own my own, I wouldn’t have much problem. But at some point, there were fragile moments where it made me feel I was isolated. As if I was the outcast where nobody wanted to help me. While it’s not true at all.

Over the course of time, I received tremendous help from people around me and also my family. Their help though not always something I wanted, it was what I needed.

This would be some sort of nonsense part of this paradise lost but help has been something I had always struggled with. If I were to be honest, I would rather die than asking for a help. It took me a courage to say the word and ask for it.I would have saved myself from a lot of hurt an pain had I have the courage to ask for help.

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Somehow, the more you question life, the more you’re lost. Perhaps it’s why people choose the comfortable way to live. Perhaps it’s better to never question everything.

In a perfect paradise, everyone would know what they want. They live their life without much of struggle nor problems. Everyone achieved their dreams and the story would end in a happy ending. It ends where the characters achieved their long life dreams smoothly and no meaningful conflict whatsoever. Even when there is, the protagonist would still get support from people around them. And they magically have money to afford it all. Unfortunately, it was the life I used to envision and had. I once had my perfect paradise.

I was growing up comfortable. I have reasonable parents who love me. Great friends who are there by my side. Constant fun and adventures. And I knew what I wanted and on my way to pursue it. I was lucky to had it all until everything fell apart and we were deep at the bottom of the cave, trying to find a light, a ray of hope that someone would pulls us up. Years had gone by, our paradise seemed to be even more impossible. It didn’t matter how hard we tried, we kept slipping down, back to where we started.

Paradise lost.

Yet I can’t stop thinking if one day, I would find them again. In my search of paradise, I found hell. I found the in between and I found nothingness.