August Fernandes

26 / Writer. Poet. Photographer. Artist. Human.

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Recovery at 25

I turn twenty-six in three days. I wrote the bottom entry on September 9th, 2016. I did not share it, but considering the fact that it is approaching a year, I would like to post it. I will have completed one year of my recovery, since I made the decision to heal myself. It will be one year since I chose to break free of a 15-year cycle of depression. Now, comparatively, one year may seem like nothing compared to fifteen years, but that one year changed my life. It gave me life.  It gave me a reason to live, to wake up in the morning, to look forward to the next day, but most importantly, it gave me a reason to love myself.  September 5th 2016 was the day after the worst panic attack I have had in all 25 years of being on this Earth. It shook my core and my mind so deeply, that I choose to no longer let my depression carry my soul, to stop pouring salt on a wound I was leaving open. I choose to finally care for it, stitch it up, bandage it, and let it heal.  As I approached my mid-20s, I started to see my depression as another person. I even named her. I think it made me separate myself from it, but I think it also gave my depression more power, and made me believe that I truly wasn’t in control. Depression was manageable when I didn’t give into it, before I gave up on myself. There became time, maybe it was a specific moment, but I let it win. I was tried of fighting, pretending to be happy, and I was tired of defending my mind to something constantly tearing it apart. I was living in pain, mentally and physically. Daily, I argued with myself, with my depression. I thought I gave up fighting, but there I was, time and time again... fighting. I became angry, solitary, unmotivated, and empty. I pushed everyone in my life away, but while I was doing it, I didn’t mind. I saw no future, and thus no consequences. I ruined every friend, family, and romantic relationship. I distanced myself from everyone, including myself. There came a time when I didn’t know who I was. And I don’t just mean ashamed of myself. I genuinely could not perceive myself. I didn’t know who was having these thoughts, I couldn’t recognize my own behaviors, and I felt like I was already dead. I was lost. I felt like a new self was born into my body, unwillingly, and this new person was pure evil. I would look into the mirror and stare. I didn’t even look like myself. I felt like I was hovering over my old body staring into its new face. My body was a vessel, and the weakness let “it” takeover. This mind was not mine to own, my body no longer belonged to me. It took losing everything important to me to push “her” aside, to put it simply. This path is not one I’d wish upon anyone, but I’m glad I experienced it. I appreciate that I now have the wisdom this brought to me, and the capability to share this empirical knowledge with anyone going through a similar time. The road to recovery wasn’t as difficult as living with depression, although it may seem like that on day one. A path to healing is unfamiliar, I get that. I understand that people find comfort in their depression, no matter how crippling it may be to someone. But there really is light at the end of the tunnel, as cliqué as that always sounds. Mind you, this year was not always rainbows and butterflies, but thunderstorms and hurricanes. As they say, “Nothing worth having comes easy.” As I did, I hope you choose yourself. I hope you decide to heal your mind and to walk a new path. Do not wish to return to “the old you,” or back to a life you were once happy with, because times change. You changed. Hope to be the best version of yourself, because you can. You can be everything you’ve ever wanted, but it’s up to you. Rely on yourself, believe in yourself, as hard as it is now. It will get better. You will be happy. Believe that from someone who has been through it. As much as you fight yourself, you must now fight for yourself. That’s the difference that will save you. ________________________________________ World Suicide Prevention Day is tomorrow, September 10th. And ironically, National Suicide Prevention Week is the Monday through Sunday (September 5 - 11, 2016) surrounding World Suicide Prevention Day. My healing began September 5th, without knowledge that this week was an important correlation to the end of what I’ve been feeling for years.  This process of healing has not been the kindest to my heart, or to my mind. I’ve struggled with the pain and hopelessness for about fifteen years. Some years were easier, others caused debilitating distress, and there were a few that seemed quite pleasant, but still, they had underlying pain. This 25th year circling the Sun will be different, because I am choosing to live a different life. I am choosing to be free. I am choosing happiness. And I am choosing myself.  Unfortunately, anxiety and depression can and will destroy you, if you let it. You need to be brave enough to stand up to yourself, and be strong enough to control your own thoughts. You need to see that you’re not only harming yourself further, but that you might never see genuine happiness again if you continue to fall victim to your mind. Don’t give up on yourself. You’re worth so much more than that. I get it, the feelings that you aren’t worth it, that you’re doomed for failure, that it’s pointless. I’ve felt those same feelings. But here I am, right now, telling you that it can and will end. It’s the most treacherous path you can humanly take, but oh, surviving it is worth it. YOU are worth it, even if you don’t believe it right now. I’m speaking to you honestly. I’m not trying to give you false hope. There is a reason to live. No matter how many past doubts you’ve had, doubts I’ve had. I’m telling you, one glimmer of hope is all that you need. 

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:  “No matter what problems you are dealing with, we want to help you find a reason to keep living. By calling 1-800-273-TALK (8255) you’ll be connected to a skilled, trained counselor at a crisis center in your area, anytime 24/7. If you feel you are in a crisis, whether or not you are thinking about killing yourself, please call the Lifeline. People have called us for help with substance abuse, economic worries, relationship and family problems, sexual orientation, illness, getting over abuse, depression, mental and physical illness, and even loneliness.”

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My thoughts are words that cannot always be translated into speech. My mind is a different language, and sometimes I don't know how to construct the correct sentences.

August Fernandes

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But in the End, I Lost Nothing

2017-07-09 Over a month ago, I felt like I finally lost you. I lost "us," and every single thing that could ever be "us." You hurt me in a way I never foresaw, and I thought I could never forgive you. I thought I could never get over such betrayal. I thought I could never trust you again, and I didn't want to trust you again. But you see, I got over it. I forgave you, but I did it for myself, not you. I lost you (again), and I lived. I survived losing you, just like I survived my fourteen year depression. This was an ending that became a new beginning. Within the past month, my cellphone crashed. Most of the files, contacts, emails (etc.) were saved somewhere, so I wasn't too concerned. I knew I was losing some photos and all of the important messages I had saved on my phone for years (the reason my phone crashed), and I honestly wasn't upset. Even though I lost conversations from my best friends, and even the man I wanted to marry, I saw this as a fresh start. I was thankful. About two weeks ago, I was driving over 1,000 miles, from a place I used to call home. I was driving a truck that I used to be insured on, in a truck I used to drive to work in, in a truck we laid in, in the bed watching the stars while wrapped in blankets in the middle of a field. Your truck. I was driving from Florida with all of my possessions in the back. I no longer had a single piece of myself there with you. You wanted it gone, I flew down there, and I drove it up. This was not only a blank state for me, but for you as well. This weekend my computer crashed. As a photographer, writer, and artist, most of my work is stored either on my laptop, or on external hard drives. The unfortunate thing... I was in the middle of moving my files, backing up, transferring, and such. Many original files were stored on my laptop's main drive. My computer's hard drive is damaged, but there still is a chance that I can recover my files. That's what I'm praying for... I can't imagine losing my memories, my hard work, my passion. But this motivated me, after it made me feel as if I no longer had ambition. The possibilities. I will no longer sit on my work. I have a drive. I have that same fresh start. I learned from my past, and I will do better this time around. Today I was washing my sheets, pillows, bedspread. I didn't realize that my childhood teddy had been sitting, wrapped up in my mess of blankets, ready to be thrown into the wash. I had gotten that teddy bear before I had started going to school. I always kept it clean, kept if off the floor, disinfected it, sprayed it, but I never ran it through the wash. For twenty years, it has been the same teddy bear. It was the same color as when I bought it, the same texture, the same softness. It was only a tad older, a bit more worn, and missing a red ribbon around his neck. Now, his fur is lighter, it's not as soft, and he doesn't smell the same. Today I took him out of the wash and I cried. I felt like I lost a part of my childhood. I held him close, and I knew that THIS is truly my fresh start. ALL of this. I will be okay; things will be alright. I need to revalue my life, and what I see as important. I have new eyes. I have a new perspective. I am changing everyday, in ways I could only imagine, and in ways I have never imagined. Half a year ago, we ended things between us, but for some reason you're still in my life. Not you, but I also lost the biggest part of my world last year, but it's something I can have back. And I'm going to work towards that. I lost my 13-year-old cat, my baby, the one thing I had in my life that always made me happy. I can breathe now, even though I couldn't for some time. I lost my brand new car, along with almost losing my life. I'm still alive, clearly. I lost my family two years ago, but I have now, and that's all that matters. Best friends, too, but I have them now; they've returned. A little over two years ago, I lost my home. Right before that, I lost my roommate, my mother. She's alive, but can only see her when I'm allowed to see her. Losing her in that way made us have the relationship I have always wanted, and she's a better person now. Six years ago, I lost (in every sense of the word) my best friend, the person that kept me going, the only role model I ever had, the woman I saw as a mom. I lost my grandmother, in my house, in my arms. I lost the one thing that I thought would kill me if I lost it. But I'm not going to tell you it didn't kill me, that it didn't change me, or empty me. It did. It recreated me, evolved me, it bettered me. Not before it destroyed me, but eventually things changed. It killed the person I was and gave birth to a new "me." And with each loss, I lost a part of me. I gained new knowledge, wisdom, thoughts, and a new perspective. I became a new person. I know I can't prevent loss, and although things may appear to have been stolen from me, I am here. I am alive. I am new. I am reborn. I am happy. And. I. Am. Okay. All of this: loss. Remember this. Let it resonate. Repeat it if need be, because right now, I need the repetition. Loss is only a transition. I will live today, and I will enjoy the life I do have, and be happy. It's what you do after, it's the person you become, the person you choose to be after, that defines you. How you handle the loss, how you recover, how you preserver through the adversity. That's who you are, the person you were meant to become. And it's your choice. You can be everything YOU want to be, despite loss, despite failure, despite every negative thing that walked onto your path. I am here today. And with each loss, I gained a new piece of myself.

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What if our waking life isn't our strongest state?

August Fernandes

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Dear self,

2016-12-22 I’m sorry I neglected you. I’m sorry for thinking that you couldn’t make me happy, that you weren’t enough. I apologize for treating you like less than you are, and for undermining you, hating you, despising you, and never listening to what you truly wanted. I’m sorry I gave in. I’m sorry I hurt you time and time again. I’m learning now, and I will finally love you. I promise. I will let you become my happiness, my comfort, my one to rely on. I will go to you again, and I will trust you, and I will take care of you. You are someone I’ve taken for granted, and I didn’t quite see that until today. I forgot you’re here to listen. I forgot you can support me, and be there for me. When did I let go of you, and how did I do it so easily, without even noticing? I forgive you. I forgive myself. I’ll always be there for you. I love you, and I hope we can become friends again.

[augustfernandes]

Running Towards the Light

Warning: This post contains language that some people may find offensive. 2016-10-02

I went running, and within the first few minutes of my run, I noticed that there was a tear in my new “few-month-old shoes.” Immediately I was disappointed that my shoes no longer looked brand new, free of flaws. They were no longer bright white, they were worn and dirty, and now ripped. For so long, I tried to keep them clean and pristine, denying them of their purpose. As of 2-3 weeks ago, I’ve been running regularly again, and they’ve been heavenly used, and I’m happy about that. But I instantaneously thought about how I could repair them, how I could stitch it up to make it look like it never happened, how I can make my shoes perfect and new again. I was upset that they were damaged, and that they may never look like they did when I first received them; my shoes were a gift.

Recently I read a book about symbols, and the author started it off by talking about an newspaper advertisement she sent out: a request for dreams about shoes. I thought it was somewhat silly, for I never had a dream about shoes that was in any way symbolic. Shoes were always just something that covered my feet; I never had dreamt about them, at least I never had a dream I could remember specifically about “shoes.” I’m obsessed with symbolism, and I don’t take the word obsessed lightly. I have diagnosed OCD, and my obsessions sometimes overtake me. I took the book seriously, and I continued reading; it remained in my subconscious a week later.

While I was just about done with my run, a song started playing on the the iPod I was listening to, and it seemed fitting to my current situation. I remembered the words of the author. The song was “Beautiful” by Eminem; the lyrics are copied below:

“Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own Everybody has a private world where they can be alone Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you? I'm just so fuckin' depressed, I just can't seem to get out this slump If I could just get over this hump But I need something to pull me out this dump, I took my bruises, took my lumps Fell down and I got right back up But I need that spark to get psyched back up In order for me to pick the mic back up I don't know how or why or when I ended up in this position I'm in I'm starting to feel distant again So I decided just to pick this pen Up and try to make an attempt to vent But I just can't admit [...] But I just can't sit back and wallow In my own sorrow But I know one fact I'll be one tough act to follow One tough act to follow I'll be one tough act to follow Here today, gone tomorrow But you'd have to walk a thousand miles In my shoes, just to see What it's like, to be me I'll be you, let's trade shoes Just to see what it'd be like to Feel your pain, you feel mine Go inside each other's minds Just to see what we find [...] Nobody asked for life to deal us With these bullshit hands we're dealt We gotta take these cards ourselves And flip them, don't expect no help Now I could have either just Sat on my ass and pissed and moaned Or take this situation in which I'm placed in And get up and get my own I was never the type of kid To wait by the door and pack his bags Who sat on the porch and hoped and prayed For a dad to show up who never did I just wanted to fit in In every single place Every school I went I dreamed of being that cool kid Even if it meant acting stupid [...] Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own Everybody has a private world where they can be alone... So are you calling me, are you trying to get through, oh? Are you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you? So oh oh Yeah... To my babies. Stay strong. Daddy will be home soon And to the rest of the world, God gave you them shoes To fit you, so put 'em on and wear 'em Be yourself, man, be proud of who you are Even if it sounds corny, Don't ever let no one tell you, you ain't beautiful...”

After listening to those lyrics, I appreciated the tear in my new shoes. I had a happiness within me that had escaped momentarily. I smiled and I was thankful for the damage. No matter how broken I’ve become, I’m recovering. I’m repairing myself. I might never be as “perfect” as I originally was, but I will wear my scars proudly. They show what I’ve survived, the rough road I’ve ran, the roller coaster of a path that was dealt for me, the obstacles I’ve overcome. I am not damaged goods or visibly broken; I am beautiful, inside and out.. No matter what’s happened to me, I will keep going, and I will be okay, and the rips and the tears and be repaired. I can be repaired.  I was worried that this happiness, this change, was just the peak of a difficult life, something that wasn’t everlasting, but fleeting. I didn’t know if I could remain this happy forever; I was still struggling to believe in myself, and I was asking or help, help that I had it within me to continue this lifestyle. So bad did I want to reach enlightenment, I wanted/want to know myself, trust myself, love myself. I want to always believe in myself and know that a life of lasting happiness is before me. I won’t be naive and assume that my life with be solely happiness, because without momentary sadness, you do not know true happiness. I want a life filled with happinesses and smiles, love and wonder, a life I’m pound to be living. I’ve been doing well, and each day gets easier, but as always, some days are just harder than others. Reaching the lowest point in your life and climbing up higher than you’ve ever been, living a life you’ve never experienced is rather difficult. It’s easy in the way that it’s relieving, and that you now enjoy many moments, but it’s hard because it’s foreign to you. Living in true happiness has been unknown to me for so long, that I had forgotten how to go about such a life. I’m learning and recovering every single day. This is a journey of enlightenment, of love, of happiness. This is a road I am proud to walk (and run).