day02 - self-sufficiency ≠ self-isolation
dear luci,
hello again, darling. i hope you are well, although let's be real, you could use a wash.
when i enter a depressive episode, i tend to become very reflective. i think it's very natural for humans, the pattern-seeking monkeys we are, to look to the past for answers when faced with a shaky present and the persistent uncertainty of the future. i reminisce about the last time i was properly happy, which felt like the trip overseas to Korea and Japan— but that's not entirely accurate. i was still pretty emotionally unstable on that trip, but i have fixated on it.
reminiscing is supposed to be pleasant, to my understanding. i loved that trip, even though it wasn't perfect. there were so many moments of beauty that i am so unspeakably glad to have shared with people. so why do i cry when i look back on it?
an aside: on crying
i never used to cry. i found it absolutely agonising, too, that i should have all these big emotions inside me with no way to let them out. hormones changed that for me, absolutely, but the last 6 months or so? shit, i cry at the drop of a hat. I nearly cried watching pidgeons in the city eat chicken nuggets off the street (don't judge me). i cry so much that i have trouble having conversations about why I'm sad. and now i find that exhausting. what gives?
when i think about that trip, i feel this sharp pain deep inside. if i trace that to its source, like a stray power cable, it leads me here: to the realisation that it was the last time i didn't feel alone. and i hate that i find myself with this sad-little-rescue-pup mentality. just accepting implicitly, until I'm proven wrong, that i will continue to feel alone.
all my senses collude against me to find some cue, no matter how remote, just to cut me with memory.
you were there for most of it, kiddo. and somehow you don't count as a reminder.
to be transparent, I'm trying very hard right now to find a hopeful angle that feels sincere to me. there's no point in lying to you. you've seen me at my worst, and at my best.
okay I've found it.
recently i was bemoaning my (perceived) lack of self-sufficiency to a friend. it responded
"i think (this is gonna sound flakey as hell btw) part of the trick is not learning to be totally self-sufficient in a vacuum, but rather you find the people that you can lean on for a little and build self-sufficiency out of that. and I only say this cause otherwise the main message society seems to give out is: you should be self-sufficient right now and you should do it alone"
not flakey at all. (thanks hana)
it's absolutely right, by the way.
and i think I'm perfectly capable of being self sufficient. i think right now, I'm just scared, and lonely, and that makes me think I'm weak. but I'm not. there's a balance to strike. finding "you" from within is so important. but then, it's also just as important sometimes to find "you" in the relationships you have with others. they're similar, but different, and they need to coexist. I've always been so determined to pave my own way. but I want to pave that path alongside the people i love. otherwise, it sounds like I'd walk a lonely road (shoutout green day). sure, I need to learn to be okay with being alone. but that isn't the same as needing to isolate yourself.
i think a lot of people in my circle right now are realising just how fucked up things are, and how much healing they need to do, including myself. and as a result, there's so much less energy to devote to the community (again, myself included). shared healing is really fucking hard when you need to be actively focusing on not dying.
all I can say is this. whether I've found "my people" or not, or just one or two of them, or whatever, it's going to be okay. all I can do is keep myself alive, be there when I can, and show up for myself when I need to. we will all get better. we will find ourselves. and then we can focus on projecting ourselves outward, when we have stabilised inwardly.
i hope nonetheless they know how much i love them.
sweet dreams, luci.