Where I’ve Been

     Hi.

    Wow, It’s been a minute, huh? Well, more than a minute. Approximately 2 months since my last long-form post. I'm not going to lie, I've missed it a lot. This blog has been an outlet for me throughout the spring and summer, and without it, I noticed myself suffering immensely. I now understand that if I don't have an outlet, I struggle with my mental health much more. I've lived without a proper outlet for so long, that I think I just grew used to the numbness. But now that I have lived with one, and I feel so much more in touch with myself, I can never go without it again. 

    At first, I didn't think it was a big deal that I was neglecting the blog. I was busy, after all. I worked the last two weeks of my job, started school again, joined a scholarship program, and was student teaching twice a week. I was animal-sitting on the weekends, in the process of car shopping, and planning a trip to visit my partner, which happened my first weekend back at school. I convinced myself that there was no time for me to write. Two weeks away quickly turned into 4, and one month turned into two. After the first few weeks, I noticed my anxiety heightening. Of course, I have a lot going on. There are many things to be stressed about. However, being without an outlet made everything much worse. 

    The longer I went without posting, the harder it became to start again. I often sat with my laptop open, and a blank document pulled up. The page just begging to be written on. Yet I just could not bring myself to do it. I don't know why I struggle so much with that. Part of me believes I'm just lazy, and can't do anything, because that's what I've heard my whole life. But another part of me (the logical part) thinks it's a symptom of ADHD, as I have read about and heard many times. People with ADHD may struggle to start a task, even though everything is in place for them to do it. Even if we WANT to, we still just cannot bring ourselves to begin. It's called task paralysis. I feel it with schoolwork, with creative projects, with reading. Even with leaving the house to see my friends. It's debilitating at times. Thankfully, I recognized it for what it is, and have started working on it by telling myself I have nothing to be anxious about. The sooner I start, the sooner I will finish. 

    With my task paralysis and my heightened stress, I found my mental health rapidly declining. I would go to my classes, my classroom, and my program. I'd do what I needed to, and do my work. Then come home and just lay. I wouldn't do anything. I would doom scroll or just lay and cry. I did that almost every day. I didn't even really know what I truly was sad about. I just felt like I was just going through the motions, doing what I needed to in order to satisfy the people in my life. My teachers, my students, my family, my friends, my girlfriend. I'm not sure if anyone knew how low I was, how much I felt like I had nothing to look forward to, how numb I felt to everything. Of course, many things happened that reaffirmed these thoughts I was having, which made things so much worse. I felt lost. I FEEL lost. For a while, I was convinced I wouldn't ever make my way out of this mindset. I had thought that I had made so much progress over the last year regarding my mental health, yet here I was. At a low, and I was angry.  Angry at myself for being so weak. Angry at the people around me for not noticing. Angry at my parents for bringing me into this life against my will. Angry at everything. 

    Of course, it wasn't fair for me to be mad at those around me. How could they know? Especially if I don't tell them? I was being unfair. Besides, they already have so much to worry about. It's selfish of me to add myself to their list of growing problems. But still. Part of me wishes they could just sense it, to see I'm struggling. For me to not have to say anything. I want them to notice me in the same ways I notice them. To love me, in the way I love them. But I digress.

    Halfway through September, I started therapy. I had made the appointment in July, yet September crept up on us with quickness. I was incredibly nervous before my first appointment. I was having second thoughts. What if she wasn't right for me? What if I'm too self-aware, and nothing will work? What if I can't be genuine, even with my therapist? What if I'm so much of a people pleaser, I can't even be myself, and show her all of me? All of these thoughts swarmed in my mind before my first session. I plucked up the courage, though, and went. The first session was intense. I talked about my relationships with my parents, my depression, and my anxiety. I cried. But it was good. I felt a release. It was wonderful to be able to talk to someone about my feelings, without those expectations. Without the worries of burdening someone. Without the concerns of ruining someone's image of me. This is her job, after all. In her eyes, I'm supposed to be broken. So I allowed myself to be.

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     Therapy has inspired me, and made me feel more safe than ever. I am so excited to continue and, see myself begin to heal. I posted the poem about my dad the day after that first therapy session. I never originally planned to share it, but I thought it may be cathartic for me, and maybe others may find it to be that as well. From now on, I've decided that I'm going to post whatever I want here. Whether it be poems, or long-form posts like this one. I was putting pressure on myself to keep this blog a certain way, but I now realize that that is just ridiculous. This is meant to be a release for me, not to induce more stress. So, with that poem being the first entry, I am entering a new era with this blog. That was a couple weeks ago, though. It is now the first week of October, and I am finally writing this post. I was inspired to start again, but only because things became dire. Last week was bad for me. So many things happened that were both triggering and frustrating. I was even worried that certain parts of my life would come to an end. But it's Friday, I had my third therapy session today, and I made it through. Despite the meltdowns, despite this aura of doom surrounding me, I made it. And I will continue pushing. 

    The next half year is going to be chaotic for me, with full-time student teaching, my certification exams, school projects, graduate school applications, working, maintaining my relationships, etc., I just know I am going to be entering a period that will make or break me. And during this time, I cannot rely solely on others for support. I need to find a way to support myself. That begins with therapy, self-love, and an outlet. The outlet is this blog. I will not abandon it again. I will use it as a crutch, and as a way for me to express myself in ways I can't otherwise. I am looking forward to my future, but I am also scared. I know I'll be alright though, I just need to have faith in myself and in the universe that there is a plan for me, even if things seem dark at the moment. 

    I can't wait to share more of myself here. The good and the bad. I will continue being honest, I will continue being kind, and I will continue being empathetic. I am grateful for my life, and for the opportunities I have been given. Even if it sucks sometimes, I promise to keep on living. And I promise to post again soon. If you're reading this, thank you. See y'all soon. :)

        XOXO

      - Rach