[GERMAN VERSION – ORIGINAL]
Dem Feind gegenüber auf dem Schlachtfeld stehen,
der Kampf für die Familie, für das Heim, das Land.
Dem Gegenüber gleiches entnehmen, in seine Augen sehen,
musst ihn erschlagen, hoffst du hast ihn nicht gekannt.
Hunderte kämpfen um deren Leben oder für den Sieg,
sie gehen heim um nie mehr heim zu kehren.
Sollte all das Leid die Menschen nicht etwas lehren,
doch kämpfen hunderte um ihr Leben oder für den Sieg.
Froh es doch zu schaffen und geehrt heimwärts marschieren,
bemerkt das leere Haus und Trauer – gegenwärtig.
War es den Sieg wert seine Familie dennoch zu verlieren,
von der Pest oder schlimm’ rem geraubt und fort für immer.
Nicht der Sieg für ein Land, nicht für das eig’ne Leben,
sondern kämpfen für die Lieben und ihnen Geborgenheit geben.
Ist es wert zu leben, wenn einem dies nicht gelingt,
dem Glauben, der Hoffnung nicht vertraut –
Verzweiflung einen verschlingt.
Ist es ein Sieg ohne die, die man beschützen sollte?
Ohne die, die man beschützen wollte?
[ENGLISH VERSION – TRANSLATION]
To face the enemy on the battlefield,
the fight for the family, for the home, the country.
Taking the same from the opposite, looking into his eyes,
have to beat him to death, hoping you did not know him.
Hundreds fight for their lives or for victory,
they go home never to return home again.
Shouldn’t all this suffering teach people something,
but hundreds fight for their lives or for victory.
Glad to make it and march home honored,
notices the empty house and sadness – present.
Was it worth the victory to lose his family nevertheless,
stolen by the plague or worse and gone forever.
Not the victory for a country, not for one’s own life,
but fight for the loved ones and give them security.
Is it worth living, if one does not succeed in this,
does not trust faith, does not trust hope –
Desperation devours you.
Is it a victory without those you should protect?
Without the ones you wanted to protect?
This was the last poem, at least the last I published here back then in 2014.
You have to know that this and the last poem were written after I lost my grandfather, wanted to end my life several times and after I finished secondary school and soon had to enter the next school.
For me all hope and good seemed to have left me, as if I was doomed to always just continue, hoping for a soon and painless death.
So before I reached the point where I actually would have shot myself, I was still writing in a broken positive way sometimes or tried to hide the truth “between the lines” until it was just all too much.
After that point I gave up on it and just wrote about what I really felt, nothing, pain, hopelessness, darkness, despair and endless suffering.
And since writing about it also didn’t seem to change it and people didn’t understand it seems, I stopped doing it for the most part and when I wrote, didn’t show it to others. So some of what I wrote was lost or is not published. Some things I published this year, after finding them in old school folders and papers.
I fully gave up in 2014. After this year things actually got a little easier in a way, although it must have been the numbness.
And at the end of these three years I felt the hopelessness again, although I thought it was hope, since I was happy to maybe soon die. There were always so many lovely people around me and it broke me, that I couldn’t be true with them, couldn’t show them that I love all of them so much. Just writing about it gives me tears. I even got a job I wished for, at least when I thought that I had no other way to die in a peaceful way.
But it all was not what I really wanted and I knew it all the time, but it seemed to be a lost cause, like others sing and feel and think as well. As if love, true friends and hope are things which are bad or shouldn’t be.
For me actually all what matters are these things, without them, there is no life.
And because I didn’t have it, most of the time, I had no life and also couldn’t give them.
One year ago I tried to end my life again and it could have worked, if I wouldn’t have decided against it in a terrifying and confusing fight with myself. No one would have noticed it until it would have been too late, but I survived and also didn’t really do it because I thought I can’t let some people alone here.
But usually I felt that I am more a burden for them then a help, since I usually felt like this and sometimes heard things approving it.
The poem Unausweichlich / Inescapable and this one together describe the core of my existence, my deepest fear, deepest sorrow and combined pain. Other poems later of course describe it as well in other forms. And it only got darker and heavier in later years, like last (2019) and this year (2020) sometimes.
Back then in 2014 it was the heaviest and deepest I felt, but sadly not the lowest and heaviest I would even have to feel and experience. And also not what I wasn’t able to write about back then and before, what only this year made possible, although I have experienced and felt it a few or maybe many times before.
Ironically it was hope and love, while it felt like madness, going crazy and breaking apart since it seemed as if it was impossible or unreal.
This year showed me, that it was real and that I haven’t had a lot of love around me and the one inside me wasn’t strong enough, unexplored, misunderstood and confusing.
Now I know it is good and was only scary and crazy because I was one of a few who felt it and saw it this way.
With others who went to similar things or just feel it as well, you learn to understand, that actually the crazy feeling or thought related to it, was coming from the change and hate towards it. Like the increased pain, when someone or you yourself, have to remove bullet from a wound without any pain killer medicine or a stone or whatever. But it has to be done, otherwise you might die from it and when it is removed you can live.
With physical wounds and “intruders” like bullets, stones and glass, it makes sense and you can prepare yourself and know it is good, although it hurts when it gets removed.
But with love it is different, when you always had it broken from your birth on. So how should you know that it was right or wrong or not good, the way it was and felt?
This is why I was scared of it sometimes, especially, when I lost it more and more.
When I was little, I often was able to protect parts of it and fight back, but the older I got and the more hate and shame and rejection came towards it and me and how I seemed to not be allowed to just be myself, it faded. So last year and sometimes this year felt like hell, especially when it tried to push through, because I thought it was wrong. I was so scared of my own love and love and freedom, that I thought I was about to die and almost killed myself because of it. All of it was necessary in my case, since it was barried so deep down, that only this way I was able to get it back and remove the “bullets” and “stones” others put inside me and I also put in there, since it seemed to be how it was and should be.
I hope I can make it possible that others don’t have to go through all of this alone (for the most part) and on their own, not knowing what it is, was and what to do, where to go.
A lot of people suffer and many found their ways, but a lot of them still try to distract themselves from it and also fear to remove the bullets, not knowing that they shouldn’t be in there and maybe not even know that they were in there after all.
We have the curse and luck to be able to adjust ourselves to so many things, that we can only accept pain as love or confuse the two of them, since we learned or had to accept it this way.
Changing it is very painful or at least it can be. But a lot of things helped me and I am so glad for them. For all the actors, movies, games, songs and stories and all this love they gave me. It was them who made my love came out again and made it fight, while I thought it was wrong.
Don’t give up out there and hopefully we will meet one day, either here or out there or in what way, there are so many. And hopefully we can help others and that I might be able to help you.
Through love, friendship and freedom.