I was ready to give up. For the first time ever, I considered hurting myself.
Wow, I thought to myself. Is this what it had come to? Will I ever recover from this devastating low in my life?
Never, in my many years of struggling with my mental health, did I ever consider hurting myself. And to me, this showed the extensiveness of it all. It meant that my issues are something that I need to deal with.
This was two weeks ago, and I can say that the realisation of my severe anxiety and depression has slowly been sinking in. I have basically been living in a bubble since then. I cry whenever; in the office, in a matatu, anywhere.
I am learning to accept it and acknowledge it as it is. Which is why I am writing this openly. Maybe this is the first step, I don’t know. I literally have no idea of what to do, or the steps I should take around it.
Last month, I went through a 21-day self-love challenge. I came across it on my Pinterest feed and decided to try it out. They were journal prompts for each day of the three weeks that had the subheading reminder: you are absolutely loved. The prompts were written down by YouTuber Alivia D’Andrea.
It was oh-so successful, and I felt like my life was finally going to come around. I wrote in my journal, I read acclamations to myself each morning. I was happy. Until that Saturday morning, when everything just crumbled to pieces. It was almost like all the love, all the gratitude, all the hopes and all the dreams I had for myself went away with the wind. I was, and still are back at this empty place.
I could say that my best friend is the only person who knows about it.
ART OF LYING
To others, nothing is ever wrong with my life. I could say that I have mastered the art of lying about how I really feel. Not even my family who I live with, are aware of what’s really going on in my life.
I read something last night, and this prompted me to write this piece.
You will be lost and unlost. over and over again. Relax love. You were meant to be this glorious. Epic. Story.
It may not be much, but this was the slight glint of hope that I never knew I needed.
I may not know where to start from, or how long it will take, but I am willing to try, one step at a time. I also realised that I may need professional help, but as I said, one step at a time. I am not ready for therapy just yet. For people to know my story yet. That’s why I’m using a pseudonym for now.
But the point remains: I forgive myself for even thinking about hurting myself. I promise to work on myself some more. Make a few changes in regards to my coping mechanisms and ways that I choose to escape my issues.
Maybe I’ll be brave enough to share it all. One day.
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