I went through a small break up recently. The relationship itself was nothing. It wasn’t serious. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t even personal. I got attached for a while and misjudged the situation. I saw only what I wanted to see. I was in the wrong mindset. And I paid the price.
The last two months have been a nightmare. Back in times I must’ve felt many things and made many judgments to the best of my emotions and awareness, but right now as I can’t recall things correctly anymore, I don’t want to make any conclusion about the person or myself or the situation. I just know that I accept it for what it was, I don’t wish anything different anymore, I don’t need the person or anything to do with them, and I don’t regret the relationship.
Actually, I’m glad it happened. I’m glad because it was so painful it stripped me bare. It showed me exactly what’s wrong with me to the absolute core. I got panic attacks. I lost myself completely. And it was totally about time. If it hadn’t been this one, it would’ve been another one. And I’m sure if I was my own best friend, I would say, I’m not surprised.
Late 2017, I thought I’d hit rock bottom. I did. It was one of the most significant events of my life. I endured the pain, got my closure, made peace with the situation. I came out of it with positive feelings. But I didn’t take any proper time to heal. I just jumped right into another mess, hooking my self-worth to another stranger, and another, and another.
And it wasn’t just 2017. There were also many times before that I’d been exposed to my own demons, but I only let time ease me. I didn’t look carefully into it. I didn’t work on the root problems. I distracted myself mostly. I made some slow progress and I thought I’d done what I needed. I didn’t. All the wounds were still there, just waiting to be cut open again. All the negative thoughts didn’t go anywhere. They were merely suppressed.
And guess what? In the last two months, they have all come back to the surface. They burnt me to the ground. I was broken in pieces. Many times I couldn’t even function. I was so scared, scared of my own mind. I had to call up a crisis helpline — something I had never imagined I would do before. I told them I didn’t know what to do. I cried. I said I wished my mind would just shut up. I wished I could disappear. I was so desperate to escape from myself but I just couldn’t. Anywhere I go, my mind would be there with me. I felt physical pain. I felt stuck. It’s like the floodgate had been opened and I just spiraled.
Luckily, time does ease things. Right now I’ve calmed down and I could feel it’s getting better. I now forgive all my anxious behaviours. I accept the past. It is what it is. I’m compassionate towards myself. I have to be. I understand my mind wasn’t healthy. I was heavily under the influence of my anxiety. I did what I did, and I accept the consequences of them. I need to get help. Finally, I admit to myself that I need to get help. My friends have been more than amazing — they listened to me, they gave me advice, they provided me with food, support, and love.
But this is not something a friend could do for me. This is not something a partner could do for me. This is not even something I could do for myself. I need professional help. So today, I called up my GP. I called up therapy. I booked a health assessment. I focus on me. If you’re in a crisis situation, don’t be afraid to ask for help. Help is available. There are trained professionals that are able to help you. I used to think I could do it myself. I used to think my mental health is something that gives me the edge. No. It’s all wrong. It’s fucking not cute. I’m not at my best. I could do so much more. I’m so much better than this. There’s so much more to life than this. And I’m getting help.
Things weren’t very enjoyable. But It was supposed to happen this way so I could finally face myself and give me what I truly need. It was the ultimate wake-up call. It’s my journey. It’s my own battle. It had to be so painful, so deep a shock to my system; otherwise, I wouldn’t have changed. I’ve wasted so much time and I’m not wasting any more of my life. When I talked to the lady on the helpline, I kept crying and telling her, but you see, I got a great life, supportive friends and family, I have so much in me, why am I like this? Why am I so weak? I cried and I was so scared. I was so scared that it would always be like this and I would never be able to enjoy anything anymore.
But I was wrong. She agreed. She said it would not always be like this. I know it’s not always like that. It can be so fucking awesome. I’m turning 25 soon. I’m at that quarter-life crisis age. Everything has been really hard, really weird. I’m changing inside out, I’m breaking attachment, and I’m really doing my best to cope, to thrive. I have to be easy on myself. I wish I was born differently so that I don’t think so much, so deeply, so thoroughly to the point where I hurt myself, but this is the brain I was given. My brain is so, so damn powerful, and oh my, it’s wonderful but that’s why it can also be very scary once it gets off track. It’s ultimately on me to keep it healthy and at its best. Brain, please work with me. I’ll train you properly.
Fuck. When 2018 ended, I would have never expected 2019 would be like this. I thought the storms had passed. But it was just the beginning. The best thing so far? I reached out to people I love. I let them care for me. I even called my dad this morning. I love him so much and he loves me. He loves me in words, in actions, and I’m sure in thoughts too. I downplay it but it’s not easy to be living away from home. I miss my parents. I miss my family. I miss my dad.
I’ve been acting like I have nothing with me and so I have to attach myself to strangers, but that’s really not true. I’m so loved, so cared for. I have my sister, her family, and such close trusted friends here who I’ve known for all my life and would take me in their home at any time. I have my website, my followers, my readers, my writing community, people who look up to me.
I have so much going on, yet at times I forget about it. I have to tell myself again and again that I’ve already had all that I need. I have myself. I’m 100% capable of making myself happy and giving myself anything I need. I’m full. I’m whole. Good and bad times all come and go. But the best times have yet to arrive. There’s so much to look forward to. What I need is to take action. To live differently. To put myself and my feelings first for now.
People often give each other advice like love yourself, be more positive, do more of what you love. But they don’t understand that these are not immediate actions to take but the outcome of a process — a really, really long and painful process. If you want to get from A to B, you have to go from A to B. You have to make the mistakes, then you can learn the lessons. You have to walk through the pain, then you can find the answers that matter.
In the last three months, I’ve grown so much (and I’m sure things like this will happen again in different forms and I’ll grow again.) Without this experience, I would have never reassessed my life and would have never taken different actions. At the end of the day, I’m grateful. Life is messy. I can be messy. But it’s all part of this worthwhile journey.