I have returned.
I apologize for such a long, unexplained absence, dear friends (are you still there?). Sometimes, your soul needs to breathe. My soul has indeed done a lot of breathing. I had my heart bruised and I had my heart beautified.
I am twenty-two years young now; eighteen, the age at which I began this little blog of mine, seems like a galaxy away. But here I am, returning. I missed this outlet. And when it all comes down to it, it was one word that brought me back–breathe. When I write, I breathe. And that is what I have missed. Breathing. I feel like I haven’t caught a decent breath of air in months, and not just because of a lack of writing. Life has gotten….at best, weird. I feel like a stranger to the girl of, even, five months ago.
I’m gonna be a little raw and open for a bit. I’ve been sitting on this post, silently, searching my mind for what to say. Silently, because the stigma around mental health issues is so heavy that, instead of reaching out to feel comfort, people quietly suffer in fear.
I developed a knack for concealment, for hiding. Depression is something I’ve had to tackle for eight years, and quite honestly, it doesn’t just go away. Oh, it has taken five of the hardest months of my life for me to realize feelings are just that. Feelings. Nothing more. If there’s one tiny shred of hope I would like to shed, it’s that feelings and emotions are momentary and fleeting. They only have as much power over you as you allow them to. They may seem fixed, but you’re infinitely stronger and resiliency is such a real thing, I promise.
I spent the last handful of months receiving treatment for Anorexia Nervosa Binge/Purge Type, Major Depressive Disorder, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That is all I feel comfortable disclosing at the moment, so I hope you can respect my privacy; though, do not hesitate to reach out to me personally if you are struggling yourself and need guidance.
I felt a full-bodied sadness that permeated so much deeper than the chest/heart and brain regions, the type of sadness that literally extended to my limbs and made them feel heavy and sore. I never thought I’d see the light at the end of the tunnel, but slowly, I noticed hope dancing around and before I knew it, I found myself dancing too.
Things feel… possible. Make no mistake, there’s work still to be done (always), but it doesn’t feel so hard because I can finally breathe again.
I’ve felt uninspired for a long time now, and I keep trying to tell myself it’s okay. I’ve had these phases before, and they always pass. But I miss making art, I miss writing meaningful pieces of prose, I miss sharing facets of what I am becoming with likeminded others. So here I am, with outstretched arms. I hope you can welcome me back in.
Things have changed inside of me in such a way that I feel like there’s a connection between who I am and what my body is (this is the big one). I’ve steadied myself and found my balance. The world is shaking, but I’m still standing. I am still here.
TIPS I’VE LEARNED ABOUT LIVING:
- be kind
- do not worry about what does not warrant worrying
- try to get enough sleep
- treat your body well
- practice self care
- learn your character strengths and exercise them
- surround yourself with people who make you feel better about yourself
- TAKE YOUR OWN ADVICE
As I pictured it to be, this entry was all over the place. But the space between black and white, happy and sad, and organized and messy, is allowed to exist. Gray is okay.
What is my plan for this little corner of the web which has become so distraught with disuse? Well, I don’t exactly know. But what I do know is this: I have returned, and I have much to share.
Have a glorious Monday and an even better week, sweet readers. Thank you. For everything.