In my last post, several months ago, I wrote about my difficulty in finding the words and the nerve to say all the things I wanted to say. Well, it got worse from there, I hit the worst of it in the middle of the year. My self-indulgent pity fest had reached an all-time high, and I needed to reset. I thought I was going to delete this account and start over in a few years time when my life was back on track because it didn’t feel like it was going to be on a set course any time soon.
So why am I writing this piece now? Because today I have been inspired. While in the act of doing nothing, I became self-reflective. I thought about how much and how little has happened this year.
At the beginning of the year, I called this year, “The Year of Relaxation”. And indeed, I have relaxed (like I said, I was doing nothing when this piece hit me), but I’ve also been moved to question a lot of things about myself and my past. Therefore, I would also like to dub this year, “The year of reliving and re-exploring trauma” not as catchy but just as necessary.
As I mentioned, I got hit really hard by the depression train. It was right after the mid-year holidays, and I had returned to school after a month of being at home surrounded by my loved ones. I became overwhelmed by the workload and stressed out by a million tiny things. I could not find the joy in writing anymore, let alone allow myself the time for it when school was breathing down my neck, and the fear of employability was becoming ever more present. I started to lack the energy to read (which I assumed was one of my healthier escapes). I lacked the energy to do anything, really. I deleted Instagram and all the other socials and the medias that played a part in my downfall but it wasn’t enough.
This was the point when I realised that I needed help, and I couldn’t rely solely on Grey’s Anatomy as an excuse to cry about life (it does work rather effectively though). So I booked an appointment with the School’s Student Wellness Centre to see one of their psychologists. We’ve only had a few sessions but I’m so proud of myself for taking that first step and allowing myself to be honest with a stranger. During one of the sessions he asked questions that I would usually gloss over or distract from with a self-deprecating joke (because self-hate is funny – not always), but in answering those questions, a lot of memories were triggered.
A long time ago I learnt to bury trauma, and I was doing a fine job of it before I met this guy. But meeting him, and then later a story that sent shockwaves across South Africa (read here) forced me to face some of it. Going through these lost memories, sort of reminded me to be kinder to myself and to fricking talk to people about it! OMG! my trust issues are bone-deep but I’m trying to open up a little more.
Even with the many privileges of my life, I’ve been through some shit, and I’m allowed to feel like shit because of it. And I am entitling to expressing it as much as the next person, doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful (which is how I saw myself). I am learning to listen to the ugly feelings (past and present) as part of my healing process, understanding what and why I’m feeling the way I do. Acknowledging that sometimes life feels really shitty. I’m just hoping to learn better ways to deal with it.
I wish I could say I was all better, even today has been an experience of juggling turbulent emotions. It’s definitely a process of learning your limits and that some days require more than you have. But I know I’m getting there, so I’m happy.
PS. This does not mean I will be writing more regularly, but I hope to participate in NaNoWriMo this year, wish me luck.
Beauty in the Words 