⚠️ *TRIGGER WARNING*: Reference to depression and suicide
This blog written in a dairy style of key events and feelings they gave rise to, is a tribute to you, from the little girl in me, hoping it will make your day and lighten your load. It is hopefully the beginning of a series I’d like to call ‘Snakes and Ladders’. It is a gift of thanks to the people who made me realise that trauma is not restricted to physical or sexual abuse. Your emotions don’t have to pass a barometer check to qualify as valid. They are valid regardless.
Chapter 1: My GP asked me if I was depressed today. I laughed and said NO.
I was almost always angry at myself and others. I didn’t always feel like I had someone to talk too when I was feeling low. Again, I was feeling low a lot so there was always this feeling of being burdensome to others and feeling judged. God forbid, someone saw or heard me crying I had to say I had just yawned or that ‘something went in my eye’- more often than not, people thought it was true.
I was bullied in school. I was beat up by a girl my age, who was almost twice as big as me, almost every day for a while. I was never a huge fan of fights so a few years later, when we grew up, I asked her if we could be friends instead, and we did.
One of my close friends called me ugly.
I was constantly talking negatively to myself, every minute, every second, comparing myself to people. I gave off a very confident persona, yet what most people around me did not know of how insecure I felt.
I was never suicidal but often joked about it at a very young age.
Chapter 2: Depression is not a disease. It is a battle you cannot afford to be in denial of.
2014
I was very tearful. I had injured my arm during a school trip and a week later, my fathers’ friends who were over for a get-together, asked me what happened. I was so embarrassed to come off as weak, to tell them my story, so I just balled and ran to the washroom. I was about 11 or 12 years old then.
I was asking for help even when I wasn't consciously aware of it. To anyone who says that people who have gone through depression or any other mental health challenges are weak or don’t know how to ask for help, you couldn’t be far from true. Sometimes, it is the people or society around the affected person who can’t understand that help is needed or often don’t know how to help. I'm not saying this to shift the blame or for pure sadistic joy of roasting others but to appreciate that when young minds with big hearts feel things that are bigger than what they can cope with at that age, they will inevitably SHOW and you can tell. They might not 'tell', but if you're an adult, you sure can!
2017
I was constantly feeling tired and lethargic.
2018
I had insomnia. I had trouble falling asleep. This lasted for almost 1-2 years. The next year, I was diagnosed with PCOS. I used to find it hard to get out of bed.
I was blaming myself, I thought it was my fault as to why things were going the way they were, as though there was something inherently wrong with me.
If I had trouble getting out of bed, I forced myself to go for a walk, when I needed rest.
I forced myself to smile when all I wanted to do was shrink and cry.
I forced myself to laugh when I didn’t feel like it.
I put so much energy into feeling better, feeling ‘positive’ because as though that was the only right way to be.
Chapter 3: Good girls don’t dress in shorts. Good girls also don’t wear clothes that show their bra straps.
Okay, brace yourself for this one because it is hysterical!:
I was wearing shorts at home, as one usually likes to when living in a climate of 50 degrees Celsius (if you know-where my fellow Middle Easterner homies at-, you know!) when our family friends visited home. The man asked me why I had worn shorts, to which his wife replied in a very confident tone ‘Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t go out dressed like this, I know the girl!’ – P.S. Aunty I’m sure you do x
Chapter 4: I don’t know if this is the South Asian in me but why do I have to constantly prove myself?
Why have I been trained to tie my worth to my academic achievements or how good I look? Am I not worthy just because I exist- seems like a pretty sufficient list of ticks to me <3
Chapter 5: There is hope. And there is help out there.
I think we find it hard to express ourselves emotionally because we have cast a rigid label on emotions being either good or bad. Emotions are just emotions. They are what they are. They are indicators of our thought process and our way of being, nothing else. They are just flags, neither red nor green, just flags.
The point of this blog is to communicate that no matter what your past looks like, you don’t have to keep it hidden away in a box. You can find true happiness no matter where you started from. You can learn to let go, to forgive yourself for not knowing what you know today. You can learn to believe in yourself. It’s never too late, even if you must start from scratch, it’s so worth it. One day I hope you meet the little you, the real you, the you that is so consumed with wonder, delight and bliss wrapped in sunshine! The day you do, I hope you see there was never multiple you’s, always just one, the one.
What does acceptance mean to you? I’d love to hear what you think-put down your thoughts in the comments section below!
