Sunflowers

I have not inhabited my body for so long that it is both relieving and overwhelming to be back. While I’ve had moments of clarity over the last few years, I can honestly say that I have not been consistently present for a long time.

To keep with my ever encompassing water metaphors, most of my time has been spent underwater. I would breach the surface for a little and finally gasp a few gulps of air, reaching a hand out to my above water self, only to find I couldn’t hold me, and I would inevitably slip through my own fingers and plunge back into the darkness.

As more and more things piled up over these years, I’ve felt like Atlas pretending to be Aphrodite. Maybe if I smiled and wooed and placated enough, I could make everyone feel safe, allowing more and more on my already injured shoulders. Maybe they’d never see just how much I was shaking and breaking.

Obviously, this didn’t work, and I imagine that those closest to me often saw the cracks in my façade, while others probably saw the physical markers of my decline.

It’s been… strange, to realize that in my efforts to appear strong enough to hold everything around me, I’ve forgotten my own greatest lessons to others… how to take care of myself.

It honestly kind of feels like I’ve been lying - unintentionally, of course, but I’ve been so fucking dissociated for so long…so jumpy…so lost and confused…

So, perhaps, it is or isn’t a surprise that I’ve been diagnosed with (C)PTSD, depression, and ADHD. The last one I've known for a while, but the others surprised me so much, and yet, made more sense than anything before.

Based on my experiences throughout my life, I am really not surprised I have PTSD, but what did surprise me is finding out just how much it affected my everyday, from freezing to jumping at anything, to flashbacks and feeling a constant sense of fear.

And depression? That’s not something I feel like people imagine of me, or something I would’ve still considered myself having in all reality. I always knew I “used” to be depressed when I was younger, but I had moved past that. A passionate optimist like me? The girl always giggling and finding the little good things to keep going? How could I be depressed? I love people too much to be depressed (yes, I literally said that to myself).

Again, of course, some part of me knew.

As the Buddhists invite Mara to tea, as I had years ago been friends with my grief and demons, I have yet been avoiding the overwhelming rapids of pain moving through my heart. I’d been clutching the tree branch likely to snap, afraid if i fell in, I’d never come back up. I knew it was too deep. I knew I’d drown.

And I did,

but there was never a tree branch.

I was just deep underneath pretending I wasn’t.

What’s the moral of this story?

It’s okay to admit you need help.

It’s okay to get help.

There is not a standardized version of a person who needs help. Just because you don’t think you seem like someone who should need help, doesn’t mean you don’t.

Shiny, smiley people need support too.

I am getting real help for the first time in a long time, but it took me admitting just how much I was struggling. It took me looking in the mirror and knowing that to invite Mara to tea, I’d need more than my herbal remedies and talk therapy.

*Note: I swear by therapy, but you can not work on helping yourself through things you cannot speak about or face. *

So here I am, starting to face the secret maze of demons i hid in my attic. I’ve had many tournaments turning my demons into friends, so hopefully the training comes in handy, and I come back with a whole choir converted to my side.

In the meantime, thank you to everyone who has kept loving me through it all. I fucking love you too.

End the stigma bbs

Sunflowers Explained

Sunflowers in Use