Seven is just a number. I didn’t choose it, but there is an aftermath.
The statistics say a seven will struggle throughout life. The deck was stacked against me and I didn’t even know a game was being played.
There were many things I was supposed to become – an alcoholic, a drug addict, homeless, or a combination of all three. It would not be surprising if I could never hold a job, suffered from severe depression, or had a short life.
My chances of suicide were extremely high. I spent a great deal of time thinking about it, planning on how to go. In the end, I knew I didn’t want to.
My overreaching goal in life is to make it to one hundred years old. On that day, I want to yell, “Fuck you, motherfuckers who ever fucking doubted me.” Then, I might swear a little bit, too.
I didn’t know about numbers back then. I knew about survival. And I was good at doing that.
Seven said my life would be lousy with little chance of happiness. Of course, I told seven to fuck off. Never tell me the odds.
Seven swirls emotions around in my head like a never-ending whirlpool. Seven tries to keep me from making sense of a number.
Seven tries to keep me from celebrating the little victories, the leaps forward, and the milestones. It would rather I remain a number.
Seven is my experience. Seven is my trauma. There is no need for silence or shame or guilt despite what others say.
I did not invite seven in. I did not cause seven to exist. It simply is.
Seven could have been an eight, depending on how you interpret the data. I’m going to stay with seven. It’s enough for me to handle as it is.
Some say love or a god can save you from numbers. I prefer science, which can lay out the numbers and show you a path toward something better. They are, after all, just numbers. I am not responsible for my number.
Seven is just a number. It tells a lot about me, but it doesn’t define me. My strength, my survival does.
Seven isn’t what’s wrong with me. Seven is what happened to me.
Seven is just a number. You don’t ever have to be the sum of any number.