This sentence will become one of my future tattoos. I knew it the first time I heard it in the song “Bells of Santa Fe” by Halsey. Sometimes, when you know, you know.
Trigger warning: death & suicidal ideations.
I am currently pushing writing this blog post as far as possible in my to-do list. Words can be scary to me. You might find this weird or maybe this sounds familiar to you. I have been a diary keeper since I was 7 years old when my Godmother gifted me my first journal.
For days now, I have been feeling the tears swell up at the bottom of my eyes for no apparent reason. I know better, though: there is always a reason. My throat is closing up as well… For the past couple of years, except for when I was in therapy weekly, I have been coping by simply ignoring my shit.
If you’ve read me here that I have been struggling with depression since I was a teenager. At the time, I refused to acknowledge it. Therefore, I also refused to see a professional (no matter how insistent my loving Mom was about it).
Opening my eyes
When I started therapy in 2020, I was going through a shit ton of challenges (I still am). My therapist helped me uncover some trauma. She also helped me deal with the negative coping mechanisms I have been piling them on top of each other. Surprisingly, it is too easy for me to push issues away and just go on with life. I learned that this is not as good as it sounds though. Specifically because everything gets buried within and creates more damage in the long run. It’s the first time a medical expert officially told me I was neurodivergent. Then, she explained thoroughly that I was not “abnormal” as I felt like I was. Seeing it as a gift instead of focusing on the negative side of being different, of never ever fitting in. It took me more than two decades to be okay with myself. To see that what I thought were flaws were actually positive. One example… Thinking in arborescence means that yes, I get easily lost in my train of thoughts. However, it also means that I usually see all the possible outcomes of a situation. I also have a hard time focusing on a task but once I start, I am unstoppable.
Even though I would not commit suicide per se, I am what they call passively suicidal. This is as dangerous. It means that I don’t care enough about my life. That I would completely be okay with dying in an accident and events like this. Do I want to die? no. Would I mind if I did? nope…
I’m falling again…
As I said, with time I became pretty good at noticing when I am spiralling down again. But this is one of these instances when knowing does not change much if actions are not taken. I am starting to believe that I should write down a step-by-step guide for myself. Have something I can refer to when feeling lost and when the motivation is completely absent.
I feel myself sliding away. As if I could see myself from outside, a witness to who I’ve become in the last year and a half. And I hate that person with passion.
I am lucky enough to have a husband that knows me. Plus, we built our relationship on trust and honesty. So when he tells me that he noticed I was acting distant; that I was dressing the same way I used to (when I was at my lowest ten years ago)… I believe him. Sometimes (often), I just wish I was invisible. But the INFJ/Virgo in me also craves to be seen and loved and cared for.
I wish there was an easy recipe to follow to switch my brain off. I envy those persons who just seem to be content all the time.
Today, I know I am under the current wave. I am doing my best to take one day at a time. I realize that it is often the only way to continue living. One day at a time. One thought at a time. One issue at a time…
I am doing my best to use this push from Effy to blog every day this month.
September is my birthday month and for once, I am tackling it differently.
I really hope you’ll find nuggets of interesting things in my words and in what I share. I love reading your comments.
Thank you for being here.
