Wow, it has been so very long since I’ve hopped back in here and typed away. Things, internally have been really well. So it’s time for me to share:
Two years ago, I was not who I am today. I was on the tail end of addiction making wild and flamboyant decisions. (Though, a lot were fun, I aspire to do them with more soberiety.)
A year ago, I was so vibrantly lost within my depression and anxiety I was barely alive. I was so constricted by my past and how to represent it to my future, by the loss of a man who I loved very dearly, the loss of a wonderful pet who will never understand why I drove off in a flash of red and blue lights never to come back. The loss of my innocence in such an aggressive way. IN retrospect its like I couldn’t shatter it from my spirit fast enough. The loss of Myself.
I went through a relationship that tasted like shit and yet, love still swirled through us with every punch, fuck, beer, and sweet word we gifted one another.
I jumped back into society, back into my hometown with girls I went to highschool with, people who had never changed. A town that never grew. A home that’s wonderfully the same. I didn’t know how to function anymore, I felt like a plastic hollow casing of what could have been.
At the time I thought I was just different, gross maybe, weird, definitely awkward, yet now I realize I was undeniably depressed beyond recognition. I no longer knew who I was at all. I’d look in the mirror and the tired face looking back frightened me. The spark in my eye was no where to be found. I remember sitting on the counter wondering if I’d ever get it back or if my green eyes would always look dead. I couldn’t remember who I was before I left my home town, I didn’t know what I thought about before I went overboard with what if’s and this pain that sought it’s home in my belly. Like a spiritual tapeworm eating all my experience and swallowing them before they could nourish me. I was floating through the next year looking for my soul. I had buried it so deep and then staked unresolved emotional disturbances on top of it.
Eventually I gave in and allowed my self to feel the shame, guilt, and utter heart break that infested my bones. I meditated with the mental monster who feasted on my thoughts. I promised myself that if I still felt nothing at 25 I’d take my own life and all the weight that resided on my shoulders to the grave.
But I did it y’all. I ride in my car on the way to a good job and see the summer colors blooming in the woods that engulf my town and a euphoria overtakes me that I am alive and that I made it. That I got out of bed on those days where I could sleep for years and I made a to-do list and accomplished it. I built my confidence from the ground up. I got a new job that challenged my comfort zones to the point of panic attacks in the bathroom. It took me a month and a half to get out of my shell but I now have wonderful work friends, a good support system, a good job. And I’m not saying that these material obstacles are what brought me out of my cavity, but they challenged me to bring my best self forth in a world where people really don’t give a shit y’all. And that is fine. I wouldn’t accept someone holding my hand all the time. I destroyed myself on my own it is only natural, to me, that I summon the strength and built myself a new beginning.
And for anyone who is dealing with that lonely depression where you don’t remember if you ever had a personality and that talking seems like a fraud, where anything you do doesn’t seem like ‘you’ but who are you comparing that to when you don’t remember who ‘you’ are. Just keep working on you internal home. Decorate it with doodles, songs, flowers, whatever calls to that little happy vibration inside yourself. Challenge the shit out of yourself and just don’t give up, even tho you come home and cry every night because you use don’t understand where you went and we both know that it not a life.
You have roots. Go back to them. Crawl down from those dying branches and rest with your soulful beginnings. Listen to those songs you sang as a kid, listen to the artists your parents listened to as they cleaned the house, buy candles, do what feels good to you. Make yourself a home again. And you will come back and fill your body until the day you overflow and tell your story. Because that’s the best part of recovering from such a deathly slump is that you come out on top of your past and bad decisions. That your story doesn’t scare you but enthrall you to help heal others.
To this day i still fight with these chemical imbalances, yet the thing that changed is that I am in control of my depression, my depression is not in control of me.
Good luck in your new beginning C. I send you warmest of love.