I haven’t written like this in years. All of my words are so purposeful and thought out now. I’ve censored myself as I shed another skin for another year. I’m going to kinda write this blindly- without thinking and see where it gets me.
I’ve spent the past year and a half knowing that my depression isn’t as bad as it used to be. I think I got so used to being sad all the time that it’s taken me a long time to be ok with being happy. I still find myself trying to find the bad- almost not beliving I could ever be satisfied.
I’ve come more than full circle- I kinda ignore the self love I used to drown myself in because I don’t think she needs to hear it anymore. I’m hard. I’m tough as fucking nails. I’m confrontational. I’m hardened from years of hating my entire being. I actually really like myself now, but as far as loving myself- I’m not sure I’m there. I’m not sure I wanna be there.
I think it’s ok to hate or dislike yourself on occasion. To be embarrassed of what you did when you were drunk, to not like how a certain shirt fits you, to be upset with the collection of pimples you have on your forehead. Loving myself wholeheartedly is impossible for me and I think I’m ok with it.
I spent my college years writing bullshit Instagram captions of how much self love and reflection I drenched myself in. I loved pretending it was easier than it was. I loved denying that I survived two suicide attempts under the age of 18. I loved being that person who got through it.
It crumbled. I lost myself in 2015 to a traumatic situation that I’m not going to define- just going to say it was traumatic- I self harmed once during this time (I self harmed from age 11-17) in 2015, I was 21- all I had to do is harm myself one fucking time and 4 years of hard work was completely gone in my mind.
This all led me to stop posting on Instagram because I felt like a fraud, a fake. My dozens of self loving posts and homages to my experience weren’t me. They were a version of me that I put on social media.
I had to build myself up from a foundation of hurt, determination, and failure. I’m still very proud of my experience and how far up I’ve gotten- but I have become almost completely closed off from publically writing or speaking about any of this.
I had to lose a big part of my being in order to feel content. I have had the absolute best year of my life, meeting humans that lift me up, consistently impressing myself at how hard I work, I have the best job, and I surround myself with relationships that are messy, fun, hard, and meaningful.
From 2015-2016 I was in pain. I lashed out that every person who crossed me. I was angry. If I hurt you during this time- I’m really sorry- I am actively trying to find a balance between tough, but not angry, and soft, but not naive.
I’m not sure who even gets on here anymore- or who is even going to read this, but thank you for reading! This is the most raw thing I’ve written in a long time and it felt really good.
Hope you are all doing well 🧡
