It's been a while since I've posted anything. Probably because the past few months I've felt as if I had nothing to say that was worth writing about.
But really, it was because I was ashamed. Ashamed that my life changed in an instant. That I got knocked down, and suddenly I didn't know how to get back up. That suddenly I felt worthless, hopeless, useless. I just felt less than what I was. And that's not like me at all. I felt ashamed because I felt something was wrong with me, and I didn't know what.
After the first hospital stay, I got back up as soon as I could. Probably much earlier than I should have. I didn't think of it at the time. But "resting" wasn't my thing. I couldn't stand staying in bed. I decided that if I put in my mind that I was healed, then maybe I was. After all, I had a dream to pursue. Everyone was counting on me. I didn't want anyone to think I was weak. I had already been accused of that, I didn't want to go through that again.
But the body is a funny machine. It usually tries to tell you something is wrong, when your mind tries to tell you otherwise. Sometimes it tries to tell you that you're working too hard pursuing the wrong path.
Hence, the second hospital stay happened. Recovery from this felt a lot longer. Mainly because there was no operation to fix it. (And even up until now, I still feel like I'm recovering. From a sickness I can't fully understand because even doctors can't tell me what's wrong.)
It got worse from there. After multiple check-ups, and eliminating foods from my diet until at one point I could only have water and air, I was just exhausted. Not just physically, but emotionally. I didn't see the point in anything. I would get angry at everything and everyone. I would cry at the drop of a hat. I didn't want to get out of bed. I had no motivation. Whenever someone told me "Be strong/ Don't be sad/Count your blessings" I became overwhelmed which led to frustration, which led to more anger. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I didn't trust anyone anymore. I was just done.
Weeks passed by, and the thoughts in my mind grew darker. Dark enough to the point where it scared me. I've never in my life thought my mind could go there. So I talked to my doctor, who diagnosed me with mild depression, and even gave me medication for it. And strangely enough, I wasn't upset about the diagnosis. In fact, I was relieved that after a string of uncertainties, I finally got an answer. I was suddenly on the road to reflection, where I confronted feelings that I had been suppressing. Feelings of anger, confusion, and betrayal of loved ones to name a few.
"Why is she talking about this?" You're probably thinking to yourself as you read this. "Why is she airing out her dirty laundry? Why is she being such an whiny-emo-baby-drama-queen?".
Believe me, I've heard these questions before (unfortunately). I'm not writing this to make you feel sorry for me. I'm writing this because I have met too many people in my life who are afraid to talk about depression. As if it is something to be ashamed about.
I'm writing this for the people who went through this, and are still going through this. I'm writing this because I know there are people out there who experience hurtful comments about their condition (Not necessarily from bad people, but rather people who don't understand their condition. Yes, it is a condition. I'm saying it multiple times. It is a condition).
And I want you to know that I can hear you, and I know it hurts.
I know that when people tell you to "be strong", it brings you little comfort because it makes you believe that it's not ok to not be strong.
I know that when people say: "Stop being sad", it frustrates you because it feels like they're telling you to "stop being sick", and you don't know how to do that.
I know that when people say "You have no reason to be sad", you know that having money/a relationship/a "nice body"has nothing to do with you being happy/sad.
I know this, and I want you to know that you are not alone. That it can happen to anyone. It's still happening to me. And Lord knows I was afraid of writing such a piece because it opens the door to a lot of judgement. But hopefully, it opens the door to understanding as well. And I would rather be honest and lose people, than hide and still feel alone.
I'm also writing this because I don't want you to lose hope. I know it can be very easy to do so. But if happiness can be temporary for all of us, the same thing must go for pain as well.
Looking back at one of my old unpublished entries (below) written a long time ago, it makes me believe that there's a part of us that's still fighting for ourselves, that accepts who we are, broken insides and all.
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"You Will Heal"
Broken things heal. They really do.
It's safer to believe that we can't heal. It's safer because not only does it not require us to admit that we want more, it also requires us to not do any more.
To want more requires responsibility, it requires more work. It requires us to grow. And to grow, it means we have let ourselves get hit hard in the face with the truth. We have to let ourselves get scared a little bit.
Yes, it will hurt. But you will heal.
My biggest fear in the world isn't failure. It isn't heartbreak. Maybe because I've experienced both many times that I've acquired some resilience to it. They don't hurt any less when it happens, but there's always that part of me that knows it's nothing I can't survive. And I have survived.
My biggest fear has always been being alone. Though it may seem like a rational fear, it becomes irrational when I let it dictate the rest of my life. Every time I've annoyed, disappointed, lost, or cut off someone in my life, there is that part of me that believes that it is one step closer to me ending up all alone.
And that fear has caused me to do many desperate things, including selling myself out, and compromising my needs just to keep whatever good thing I think I may have. But I should know that when I'm spending all my energy doing so, then it really isn't a good thing anymore.
We are a complicated species. Though it is hard not to take things personally, we have to understand that people change. People come and go. Not because you're a bad person, or because you're not good enough, it's that everyone has their own needs and we owe it to ourselves to figure out what those needs are. Sometimes relationships end so badly beyond repair, and sometimes people just drift apart. It happens. We can't spend our lives trying to fix things that clearly wanted to be changed.
But I'm not preaching. As a matter of fact, I'm writing this down to remind myself of this. Because If I have another off day/week/month/year, and I decided to look back on my past reflections, I would want to know that I learned something through a difficult time.
Because let's face it, we're all still trying to figure things out. And that's not a bad thing. It's not an embarrassing thing to admit. Even the older, more successful ones than you don't always have it figured out. And that's OK.
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<3 Alexa
