It's been a while since I've written anything here. Things are a bit better on the mind front. I'm writing again, slowly but surely. There isn't a ton going on to report, but I felt like it was time to write something up to prove I'm alive.
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I'm not sure what day it is on my road to recovery. So much of it has involved the same old, same old. I'm establishing new routines and new attitudes. I've spent a lot of my energy on physical health care, and that has done wonders as well.
I'm at the point where I'm ready to start working on setting big goals. It's time to start reaching for the stars again. I'm taking a different approach to it from before, but I'm going to go for it. Does this mean I'm all better? No. I'll keep logging my quest to better mental health. Next time I might have something more profound to share, but I felt I owed an update on how well everything is going. It's going well. Things are better. Not perfect, but better. It's really awesome. I wanted to write an update to help me keep track of the days better.
I feel like I'm slowly coming back to a place where I can create again. It'll be gentle and slow. I'm not sure how much of it is the season and how much of it is an improvement of my mental health. There's a lot I'm still sorting through, but I do feel better. It's been two months. I feel like there are still many more months to go. I feel a lot better about that too. My break feels a lot less weird. It felt time for another update. A lot of my time has been spent navigating my summer routine. Some days are really good, while others not so much. I can tell it's a bad day when I put my head on my pillow and I'm plagued with anxiety.
Those are the moments, I sit and dwell on everything that could have gone wrong or been misinterpreted, and gosh why do I have to be so darn annoying? No wonder no one wants to hang out with me. Generally, I get this way after I've had too much people time. It's tough, because I do love to hang out. The thing that makes hanging out tricky is that whole introversion thing. For those unfamiliar, introversion is when individuals recharge energy through introspection and quiet spaces. Most introverts are socially awkward because they like to skip the pleasantries and get right to the heart of things. Satisfying conversations are ones that feel like growth rather than something to do to pass the time. Most of us would rather you just get to the point than beat around the bush. As an introvert, I've been told often that there is something wrong with me. I'd come home from school and be utterly exhausted from having survived the day, and I wouldn't know why. I can't count the number of times I've been told: "I thought you were mean until..." "Oh, you're actually REALLY cool. Why didn't we talk before?" I also can't count the number of friends who have left because they didn't have the patience to navigate this piece of my life. Okay, I probably could count them all, but I don't want to. Most of these friendships aren't destroyed, they're just...faded? Generally, we pick up where we left off just fine. Anyway, the point is more that this part of my life has caused a great deal of insecurity for me. It's been a piece that was hard to accept for a while. Gosh darn it, I just want to be normal! Why is that so much to ask for? I've never felt that way, and I'm sure everyone has thought that too. I strive for acceptance, and I get anxious when I think about all of the ways I won't be because of XYZ. This has lead me to the following conclusion: I need to learn how to love myself, all pieces of myself, and no longer feel shame. Like, duh, of course I do. But the sooner I come to terms with who I am, the sooner I'll realize that being anxious about it is a waste of my time. I'm not quite sure why I'm writing a blog post today, as I don't have much to share. I suppose part of it is because it makes counting the days easier.
I still feel weird, like I should be doing more. My house has been a little more organized, and my anxiety is a little better managed. However, certain things still trigger panic attacks in me. I keep reminding myself that I need to keep playing the long game with this. That it's okay that I still feel weird, wrong, and broken, because I've got years worth of things to mend. I've let myself be broken for too long. My biggest challenge right now is feeling like I'm alone. There are lots of people who are supporting this journey that I'm on. It's not so much a lack of that. I don't need people to offer me constant cuddles and "You got this" etc. When I say I feel alone, I just mean that when I do stand up for what I need, I'm met with a lack of grace and understanding. Mostly because when I say what I need, it doesn't look like what people think I need, and thus that makes it automatically wrong. Part of why I fell so deep into this pit is because I've spent a lot of time trying to do what people think I should be doing. Yes, there's a time and a place to fit in/do things against your nature. That being said, I feel like I've been forced into that more than I should. Forced into it in a way that I'm subtly being told: "You're wrong. You're broken. You need to be fixed." So I try things "their" way, and in turn break myself to the point where I'm depressed. Basically, it's like someone telling me to be a dog when I'm actually a cat. To be a fish when I have all of the anatomy of a bird. I'm introverted, and awkward. I like geeky things that are generally attributed to being acceptable only by men, or a certain type of woman that I also do not fit in with. I'm low key, and low drama. I even eat all of the "wrong" foods according to society. I mean, can we just take a moment to talk about how baby/bridal showers are salads, fruits, and "light" food based rather than serving nachos, bbq, and real desserts? How we sit and degrade ourselves as we indulge in whatever piece of real food is actually present at those events? I've never understood why we women do this to ourselves. Please, don't think I'm shooting down "girlie" things either. I love high heels, pretty dresses, and make up. I really do. I've always wanted to be "into" that scene more, but I find that when I'm there, I also have to choose. I can't be BOTH. I can't be the girl that wants nachos and a comic book/Playstation controller, AND want to wear a sparkling cocktail dress while looking like a goddess of epic proportions. I sure can't be an introvert. That's been the most damaging piece of all. Introversion is seen as unhealthy. Why let it get this bad? Why didn't I say something sooner? Those are great questions. Ones I'm still trying to find the answers to. Probably because I associate disappointment with "I hate this part of you" and thus think that not meeting expectations makes me un-loveable. I can't count the number of times I've tried to make friends and then I show someone one of my secret "favorite things" (like the comic books, video games, and other geeky things) and I'm met with: "Oh...um..." Because from that point on, I'm seen as someone who can't related to the interests of others. Look, even if I'm not into the same thing, I will be excited to hear what you have to say about your thing. And I am multidimensional. Again, I want to know: Why can't I be BOTH? More importantly: Why can't I be ME? What does this have to do with my writing? One: Self-esteem. Enough said, I hope. Two: By denying these interests in the hopes of fitting in -- by denying myself all of the things that make me happy in order to fit in -- I am pulling myself away from the things that give me creative inspiration. The comics/geeky things are just as crucial to my creativity as the dresses/fashion things are. I need to be allowed to be an introvert not just because of energy, but because that is how I can process all of the pieces of my work. So this is my list of things I need: 1) Days of nothing. My life needs to slow down. A lot. Not everything has to be A THING. 2) Embrace the geekish things in life. 3) Figure out how to feel beautiful/enjoy those things that I find beautiful. 4) Just enjoy things period. It's really that simple. Why do we make things so hard? It's been almost a week since I declared my intentions to go on a mental health related hiatus. I feel weird still. Perhaps that's a sign that I've unknowingly become a workaholic, because I feel like I'm in a strange state of withdrawal. I feel like I should be writing, like I have to be, like a piece of me has been cut off (I may have already mentioned this in my earlier post?), and it is hard to remember: No, it's okay. I can NOT write today.
I was born to create. Of that I am certain. I've been given a great deal of stories to share. Somehow in my quest to do that, I got lost in a lot of extra noise. Sometimes, publishing a story can go wrong because one becomes distracted by all the extra shining things that are part of the process: Primarily attention. And I don't only mean attention from fans, but from peers too. It's very easy to get caught up in the fun pieces of social media. It's also easy to see someone else's successful methods and trying to change the functionality of one's own process to match what worked for that person. It's also easy to feel inadequate because the turn around time for writing books isn't "fast" enough. Before I published, I never thought about any of the above. I only thought about the story and how excited I was to share it with another person. I'm sure I annoyed a great deal of people in my life by shoving those stories into their faces and demanding they be read. There was a point in time where I was a fan girl of my own work. It was all I wanted to talk about, and all I wanted to do. A lot has happened to draw me out of such a mindset. Sometimes I miss that girl. Sometimes I'm happy I evolved away from that. What I do know is that I need to have that same love and joy for my work again, regardless of if I share it with the rest of the world. So I'm going to figure that out. I've had some interest in this, so I'm going to document my road to recovery back into the land of creativity. This is going to be a lot different than my quest for words blog, as it will focus primarily on the inner pieces of my soul rather than my writing craft.
Today was my first day of my spiritual elimination diet. Basically, I've cut out as many things as I can from my life so that I am functioning on the simplest of systems. Not having so many THINGS on my plate feels very...weird. I didn't enjoy the day the way I wanted to. I feel like I owe a lot of backstory, but this isn't the day for that. Today was strange, and I kind of need to sort through that before I can dive into anything else. |
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December 2021
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