I have not been okay, but, like, I’m okay.

c/w suicidal ideations, alcohol/drug use, grief/loss

Hello, my loves. It has been a minute, hasn’t it? My instinct is to apologize for the long, procrastinated post; however, I am working on apologizing less for me just being me. Therefore, I am not sorry, but I would like to provide you with an explanation of my recent absence. I realize that writing a personal blog about my journey with mental health is both apparent when there is a post and when there is not a post.

Over the last month or so I hit a low… again. This time was different because I didn’t really see it coming. I was riding a high for so long, that even though I knew I would hit a downward slope again, I was hoping that just maybe I was wrong. Just maybe with my therapy and medication and stable partner I could just be “normal”, whatever that is. In my head “normal” is being able to live everyday without this overwhelming pain of the past and fear of the future grabbing ahold of you at different times in your life. I suppose after 2020 though, nobody is truly normal. Everyone I have talked to has struggled with their mental health is some way, shape, or form. Is this the new normal then? AM I NORMAL? I could never.

Anyways… While I used to think that my lows bloomed out of random acts of the universe, I now understand the many triggers that send me into a downward spiral. These last few weeks it was a culmination of so many things. The change in weather, in sunlight, election anxiety, work stress, the ins and outs of a new relationship, the coping skills from my eating disorder that I still lean into, the upcoming anniversary of the loss of a dear friend (re: Alex Wolf), the lack of continued contact to so many loved ones, the never ending news of millions upon millions of deaths from a virus that has been mishandled, the nightmares of people that have hurt me that wake me up in the middle of the night, my upcoming 30th birthday… need I go on? It wasn’t out of nowhere these feelings formed. My depression and how it responds to all of these life stressors is valid. Life is hard, having a mental illness is hard, writing this blog post is hard.

In fact, my roommate just walked into the room and said “are you crying? Is writing that hard?” And I just came to the realization that part of the reason I haven’t written anything in over a month is because I knew it was going to bring up a lot of feelings in me. These feelings are honestly a bit overwhelming. They sometimes show up as tears, or debilitation, or over activeness, or cold sores, or all of the above; it’s all a fine line. I must say this most recent slump has been much more manageable than my past experiences. I’ve only though about dying once, and it was so fleeting I wondered if it even counted- that is a major improvement for me. Hip hip hurray!

As I prepare to enter my 30th year of life, I can’t help but look back at the last 30 years and reflect on all the different ways my life has twisted and turned. Did I think I would ever be able to say I barely think of dying? When I was little, did I ever imagine the life that I am living right now? Not even a little bit. If my life had turned out the way I dreamed of as a kid, I would be famous, married, and have many adopted children, and probably live somewhere else like London or Australia. If my life had turned out the way I dreamed of when I was a teenager, I wouldn’t exist. And if my life had turned out the way I dreamed of as a young college student, I would be lawyer with a drinking problem.

Through these reflective moments, I am also reminded of how my depression has transformed over the years. How my low days are primarily a lack of motivation and much less suicidal ideations. How I am able to recognize it and provide myself with comfort instead of searching for it from strangers on the internet. The way that I reach out to those who truly love me, instead of pulling away from everyone that I love. Even just the way that I know that I am loved instead of feeling like the world would prefer that I not be here. I spent the last month in a depressive state and it didn’t scare me. I listened to the things that I needed in moments that felt the hardest and stopped shaming myself into feeling that it was wrong. It is hard enough being depressed and then also have my brain reprimand me for the way I was dealing with that depression.

I frequently ask my patients what their coping skills are and 9 times out of 10 they slink down into their chair and they begin to mumble that they smoke weed, or drink alcohol, or watch hours upon hours of TV. I try to reposition their mind set, the shame that lives within their slouched backs and mumbled tones. We are, at the core, humans trying to survive. Is drinking wine because I am sad the healthiest coping skill? Nah. Does it make me feel good in the moment, you can bet your bottom dollar. And I tell my clients just that. We do these things because we want to feel better and we shouldn’t shame ourselves into feeling bad for that. We can recognize that these are not long term solutions and that without getting real care and proper help these coping skills could create more harm than good; we can also recognize that sometimes getting stoned feels good. There is no healing when shame is masking all that we do, no matter what we are trying to heal from.

As I mentioned earlier, the anniversary of the loss of Alex Wolf is coming up on November 20th. Grief is not linear and there is no right way to heal. Many of us this year are experiencing that feeling. I can promise you that on Friday, I will be crying and I will have wine and I will call my best friend, his sister, and we will probably cry together and that might happen every year on November 20th and there is healing in that. I’m over feeling shame. Shame for what I put in my body, shame for how I heal, shame for how I look, shame for any of it.

Alex Wolf is one of the best people I’ve had in my life and when he passed I made a promise to live life like Alex. Alex was like the antidote for feeling shame. He made the people around him feel proud to be who they were because he was proud of himself and proud of his friends. In fact, I am smiling while I write this thinking about the time I was capturing images of my friends and asking them to give me their essence. [Image posted below.] Alex ran to put on his homemade corduroy shorts and take a picture with his best friend and I’ve never seen anyone more proud, even while me, his sister, and best friend mocked the shorts.

(Pictured: Stephanie B. and Alex W.)

So, all of this is to say 1. I haven’t been okay, but, like, I’m okay, 2. I still have depression and that is very real and I am still working to heal and cope, 3. thank goodness my life has taken twists and turns 4. There is no right way to cope, 5. Let’s stop shame altogether, 6. I miss you, Alex, 7. I am still trying to live my life like Alex, 8. Best friend, call me on Friday.

A[wo]men

when i let shame take ahold of me

i let go of knowing

i am exactly

where i need to be

-reasons to get rid of shame

Stability on the Water;

Hi, Friends! I apologize if you missed me last week, because I sure missed y’all. It is funny how off my week can feel when I skip a post (or 2, or 3). Don’t get me wrong I don’t regret taking the time off. I mean if you had the opportunity to go to the beach, wouldn’t you? Especially as summer fades away into fall I figured I should take advantage of any opportunities I can get in the sun and water.

I know I’ve talked a lot about baby Sarah, mostly in the context of hardships, but baby Sarah comes soaring out in all her greatness when I am in the water. As soon as I dip my big toe in I am transported back to that little girl that felt free in the water. There is no pain there, no fear. I am weightless! And for someone that always felt like she was too big, the peace that came with such an escape was indescribable. In fact, I think I could say the water saved my life.

I spent a lot of my childhood hoping to die. Yet, I never felt that way if I was in the water. I found solace lying on my back looking up at the sky or ceiling, the water filling my ears so all that was detectable was faint sounds that didn’t translate. We had a pool in our back yard. I would float or be a mermaid or a shark or a minnow or Marco or Polo and real world problems simply didn’t exist.

This month is Suicide Prevention Month. I’ve spent a lot of my writing talking about moments in time when I felt suicidal. It is not something I am shameful about and, in all honesty, I believe those thoughts are as natural world itself. Some of us feel them stronger than others and some of us believe there is no escape. For a long while, I only believed in escape in the water. However, when my feet would touch solid ground again, I slipped right back into my reality- the reality that I didn’t want to be here.

I am not here to talk about that reality today though. Today, I want to talk about my reality of this moment. In this moment, I doing really well. Well like I could skip down the sidewalk and sing in the store. Well like my heart might burst through my chest. What has caused me to feel so well? Mostly, there is stability in my life, like real stability. I’m not sure if you recall, but that was my news years resolution this year. I have money in my savings account, my credit card balances are finally going down, I have medication that has quite literally stabilized my mood, there is a cute boy I like. And if I am being totally real with y’all.. it’s freaking me out.

Why is it freaking me out? It is a new feeling. New anythings scare the sh*t out of me. New hairstyles, new apartments, new friends, new bedding. It’s unknown and what is scarier than the unknown? My anxious brain loves to think about the unknowns. The current obsession on repeat is “do I deserve to feel this good?” feat. trauma. It’s a classic hit that I’ve heard before. Real catchy, almost like an annoying jingle. Part of it spins out of that depressed girl, that didn’t think she should be alive. The girl that believed nothing could ever feel this good.

When this greatest hit get’s played, I want to rush to turn it off. As I have learned though, that’s not the way intrusive thoughts get shut down. They get shut down by letting them in, understanding them, respecting them. I’ve mulled over the question the last few nights, trying to understand my brain a little more. I have never questioned when hurtful things happen. Without skipping a beat “I deserve this” also feat. trauma, oddly enough, shoots to the top of the list. So, why, when something good happens, does it become the opposite? Could it be that old central message I worked so hard to get rid of rearing it’s head?

DING. DING. DING. Up until this past year I always thought that I wasn’t good enough. Messages that could validate such a statement were snuggled up under the covers with me and messages that didn’t rolled off my back like water. Now, my new message is that I am good enough, but it’s a new message… and you know how I feel about new things. I know though that it is all about practice. New things don’t always stay new. I thought again about my current #1 hit and how I could get it to fit my new message.

Why do I deserve to feel this good? Because feeling good is what everyone deserves. I am not special in that. If I want my friends and family and patients and strangers to feel that way, and I hope and pray for them to feel that way, I should hope and pray the same for myself. I am a human being with a million different parts and I want to experience all of those parts. We are all worthy of such a life.

Your central message right now might be telling you that you are not worthy. I sat with that message for along time, so I know how that feels. If you are hearing that as you read this, that is totally okay. You don’t have to rush into new feelings. Perhaps though you could think of what you would want your central message to say, or what you would want your best friends central message to say. Close your eyes and think of all the words that could make that statement come true, like a vision board. Now, try to trust that new things, although scary, can be the best things that happen to us. Try taking one little step to flip this unworthy message on its head. Maybe that means brushing your teeth, or getting a therapist, or literally just breathing.

And if all of that sounds like a bunch of bullsh*t, maybe go float in some water and drown it all out. That may be all you need for now.

A[wo]men

**Also, I would be remissed not to note that suicide prevention is not just reaching out. Suicide prevention is loving/supporting the LGBTQ+ community, it’s supportive housing, it’s having enough food, it’s being able to afford medication, it’s undoing racism. It’s a million things that are systemic and need to be fixed. Need resources? Contact me.

from the tears of those before you

fill your ears with their

salt and water

float

-you’re not alone;

And as always, if you are feeling in need of support, whether that be because you are suicidal, sad, happy, want to tell me a funny joke, etc. please reach out to me on my contact page. Love you all ❤

The Three Brains

“I simply just don’t even want to do it today. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to feel. Bro, I straight up am not having a good time.”

That’s my anxious brain talking. Everyone say hello! My anxious brain is actually one of my more favorite parts of my brain. It might be confusing as to why for some, but my depression is very much linked to the past and the strongest sad emotions that really take over. I see these moments of my life on repeat and it’s typically moments of trauma. My trauma loop is exhausting. It’s like sitting through The English Patient, which I haven’t actually had to endure, but if Elaine from Seinfeld hates it I stan. However, my anxiety, oh baby, does she have some unique imaginative powers and girl has got some teeth.

I’ve heard people say that depression is about past thoughts and anxiety is often about the future. I don’t know if you can tell by my writing, but my creativity when it comes to thinking about the future is next level. I’ve dreamt up whole futures in my head, some good, some bad, some just right. None of them real, not even close. Trust me, I never would have dreamt I’d be living in Brooklyn, working at Planned Parenthood, writing a weekly blog, and posting pictures of myself in bikini’s unedited on the internet. I definitely didn’t guess that whole living in Alaska thing. Heck, I never saw myself actually falling in [romantic] love.

Ah, where the anxious brain and the depressive brain meet- Romantic Love. L is for the way you look so dumb. O is for the only ones I wish I didn’t meet. V is very, very stupid. E is even worse/great than anyone could imagine. I hope you tried to sing that and realized it doesn’t work, as I just did. Anyways, yes love has got me feeling some kind of way. As I mentioned in my last post I was seeing someone new. Well, guess who isn’t seeing someone new anymore? Yes, this girl. Guess who is seeing someone new though? That’s right an ex-boyfriend. I guess I should say THE ex-boyfriend. The first love. The blah, blah, yuck, ew love.

I don’t write a lot about my relationships, mostly because this is about me and not about them. No matter what happened with anyone that I dated, they are a part of me, so I try to be careful in the way I write about them because a part of me will always care about them. My anxious brain isn’t careful though; another reason I love her. I can’t even write some of the things she has said about them. She likes to curse, a lot. I am the queen of careful; I work so very hard to not hurt people feelings and play things safe. So, when I feel my anxious brain going off, I like spending time on the wild side, letting her free flow. If my anxious brain had a celebrity personality it would Mona-Lisa Saperstein from Parks and Rec. The w0o0orst. [But also the best?]

Here’s where I get frustrated though- I know we aren’t right for each other. I know it is completely done. I know I have dated like a lot, a lot of people since we’ve been done. I know all the things. Yet, one little post and I am sent into all the feelings from before which, coincidentally enough, was about all the future things. Hence the depression and anxiety teaming up. My friends, my real true loves, are great and they tell me to be kind to myself and they assure me that all the things I am feeling are normal. But dang, if  they could hear this girl talk. The anxious brain comes in and is like, “remember that whole mom thing you dreamed of? GUESS AGAIN!! muahahah” I told you she is straight up mean. She just comes up in here saying how I am going to be alone forever and I can’t find the right person because that is my destiny. Sometimes, the future looks bleak with this anxious brain. I will say, my anxious brain does kick my adrenaline into overdrive and my apartment is nearly spotless and all my errands were completed before noon today, so I do really appreciate that about her.

But then, in an overarching hero-like-fashion enters my rational brain. *BA BAD DA BUM* “I’m here to save you from these past and future thoughts to bring you directly to our present moment.” My rational brain is so dreamy. I love her the most. She comes in and is like “honey, let’s take a deep breath and really think about this… who broke up with these boys?” “uh… I did.” “and why did you break up with them?” “Uh… because I know what I am looking for in a partner and I haven’t found that yet and it’s important for me listen to my instincts and trust myself.” “Exactly, baby girl. You know exactly why you aren’t with these boys, so you just keep breathing and trust that you know what is right for you.” Ah, rational brain, my true love.

My rational brain was MIA for a v. long time. I think the depressive and anxious brain were holding her hostage somewhere. It wasn’t until she saw a slight break in the lock that she crawled out victoriously. The aforementioned break in the lock came from growing up, from loving friends/family, from therapy, and from Lizzo. When the rational brain wasn’t there, that’s when things like suicidal ideation would creep in. The more I let the rational brain take control of things the further and further I get away from having any of those thoughts. I can actually proudly say that I haven’t had a thought like that since June, which is the longest I’ve gone without such a thought and if that is not something to celebrate, I don’t know what is.

To summarize, this past week I was filled with anxiety about what my future love life holds, but it did not drown me. We went a little wild with our thoughts and then we brought it right back to the here and now. That is what I call growth, my friends.

Are you feeling anxious this week? Especially because 2020 is a ball of anxious energy and nobody knows what’s around the corner? Cool, cool, cool. Just feel it, remind yourself it isn’t real, and then come back to the here and now and take stock of all the things you can do for yourself in the present moment. As always though, if you’re not ready to be in the here and now, it’s all gravy baby.

A[wo]men

you are breathing,

reading,

existing.

you are love.

-in the here and now

Diving into Love

C/W suicidal ideations

Welcome back, loves. Glad to be here, even if only 5 days ago I would not have said that. Went through a small spout of depression this week. The bad kind. The kind where I could barely get out of bed, brushing my teeth was considered a victory, and the idea of disappearing sounded more ideal than anything else. Haven’t felt that down in a long time. Luckily, the feeling didn’t stick around too long and I am out on the other side.

While it was hard to be in that state, I did get to reflect on some pretty cool self improvements. First, I recognized what was happening. I didn’t try to pretend it wasn’t there or act like I couldn’t explain it. It was a feeling I knew well and I jumped in. I thrust my body off of the diving board, gracefully crashing to the bottom of the pool. Second, when I hit the water and was gasping for air, I listened to that. My body told me to breathe and I took long, deep breaths. It said rest, so I laid on the couch all day on Sunday. It said eat, so I ate. It said don’t eat, so I didn’t eat. It said take a walk, and I took a walk. That is a huge improvement. In the past, I felt as though I couldn’t trust my body; my body was the enemy. If my body said eat, I would say “why are you trying to make me fat?” A gross statement in and of itself. Now, when my body says eat, I say “what are we craving? What type of fuel do we need?” What a relief to find trust in my body. Finally, I didn’t let it hang around too long. I had previously wrote a post about needing to fight. That we need to fight when things don’t feel worth fighting for anymore. This is where listening to your body can get a little complicated, because if I let it my body could stay under water for a very long time. It’s easier to not kick and just stare up at the surface through the water seeing a blur of what life used to look like. It’s safe down there. But see, I had to kick because my body also screamed for air. That line is understanding desire vs need. I spent a few days below the surface before breaking through- pushing my legs and arms as hard as I could to in order to reach the surface. What did that look like in reality as opposed to this diving metaphor?

It was crying and telling myself that all things change. It was saying that this feeling, as hard as it is to feel, will indeed change. It was saying that this is not how I want to live. It was hiding under that covers and then coming out from under the covers. It was going to work, after 1100 ‘snoozes’ of the alarm.  It was doing things one step at a time. It was everything I could muster. It was reaching out for help; it was me telling my friends I’m drowning. (Can’t seem to escape the swim metaphors *shoulder shrug emoji*.)

At one point, I started to feel like a burden. That is a sign for me that I am reaching the lowest place, the place that is hard to come back from. The place with suicidal ideations. I had to repeat to myself that I am not a burden and that people love me. I was sitting in the dark, my arms wrapped around myself, fighting that feeling when all of the sudden there was a bright light in my face. My best friend was calling me. I picked up sobbing into the phone. She said her “best friend spidey senses were tingling”. She knew I need her more than I realized I needed her. We talked on the phone for a couple of hours. When I first answered I was crying, barely able to breathe, feeling like I couldn’t go on. By the end of the conversation I couldn’t remember why I was upset to begin with. It was like my soul had been restored. A simple conversation from a friend who sat there with me and said “I wish I could do or say something, but all I can say is I love you.” The thing is… that was all I needed. I needed to be reminded that I am loved, I am loving, and I am lovable.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I know, it was a really lengthy way of getting here, but I am dramatic and had to build it up. But seriously, it’s that time of the year. If you’re sitting there confused, I’ll fill you in. LOVE TIME aka Valentines Day aka hallmarks holiday. This Friday is that day that romance gets shoved into our faces and us single folx are reminded that we are not in a relationship. Okay, that may have sounded a little bitter, but honestly I am not bitter about it. I love Valentines Day.  When people ask me why (which is just rude, tbh) I always respond with “why would anyone hate a holiday that celebrates love!” I mean I know why, but I LOVE love. Yeah, I’m annoying like that. Every year I make a point to celebrate the love I have for myself. This year I am treating myself to some takeout and a bikini wax! I also believe I owe myself extra because last year I spent the day crying into my pillow because I ran into my ex with another girl. Gotta make up for that disaster. I think I see a massage in my near future.

This year though, I want to make it a point to celebrate even more love. This year, I want to remind the people that I love that I love them, because Valentines day isn’t just about your romantic partners- it’s about having a day dedicated to reminding the important people in your life that you care. My friends, as is evident from the story above, are life saving humans. My family lifts me up and gives me so much support. This type of love, well, its unlike any other. It gives me power to get through feelings of suicide that can lead to me forgetting I was even having those feelings in the matter of two hours.

I refuse to be bitter on a day about love because I am luckily enough to be surrounded by it. That is a gift I will never take for granted. When I was sitting in the dark, crying, asking someone to make the pain stop I got that prayer answered. I am pleading with you this year, for Valentines day, celebrate all the people you love. Pick up the phone and call your friends, family, dog, neighbor. Spread it around like it is bursting out of you. You may just answer someones prayer.

And I know one day isn’t enough, we must say it continually. So, staying on theme, I am just going to dive right in: I love you, my dear reader.

A[wo]men

Black History Month’s featured Black Artist:

“Everything want to be loved. Us sing and dance and holler, just trying to be loved.”

Alice Walker, The Color Purple

Published in 1982, The Color Purple focuses on the life of a black women in America the 1930’s. Alice Walkers way of writing is done in a way that nothing else matters while I am reading her material. The book was also adapted into film and a broadway show. I saw the broadway show and it was hands down the best performance I have seen thus far. I cried… hard. Alice Walker herself is a brilliant mind that graduated valedictorian from her high school. She grew up struggling with personal difficulties and would find comfort in writing poetry and reading. The Color Purple was one of the first books I read when I started reading for pleasure (I was a late bloomer in that aspect). It will always hold a special place in my heart.

Dream a big dream of me.

Hello fellow readers! Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you. Can hardly believe it’s been a month since we last connected. It was a much needed break with time for reflection and connecting to the real world. I laughed, cried, and watched a lot of Gossip Girl. There was also a lot of ‘oh perhaps I will blog about that’ moments. So many in-fact, that I have several pieces of paper floating around that say things like “7 hours in the airport” and “girl skipping”.  Today though, I don’t want to discuss my travel woahs or how sometimes simple things give me the most joy; today I want to write about dreams. I’ve been having a lot of them lately. Some while I sleep and some while I am awake. There is a thread to them all though, the future.

My last blog post was about my goals for the new year and we are officially in it. 2020 has begun and just as any new year, I have started out strong. THE FUTURE IS NOW. This topic of the future though is a big deal to me. In a previous blog post  I discussed this new possibility of living without suicidal ideations. Since that post, I have absolutely had suicidal thoughts, but not in the same way. They are more fleeting and I am able to breeze past them like I am on a boat just passing by a sea creature and waving goodbye instead of it swallowing me whole. Which, of course, makes the future so much more exciting. I have all of these ideas constantly swirling around my brain. Making plans to travel the world. To turn 30, 40, 50, 60. Thinking about how and when I will get published one day.

When you feel suicidal for most of your life the future is this vague idea that, in all honesty, you don’t think will ever really come. I would speak of the future because I had to not because I believed it was real thing. It just seems to be a common topic amongst humans. What do you think your future partner looks like? What do you think you’ll be doing in the future? What kind of house are you going to live in? My head would yell IT’S BLANK and then I would spit out things I had seen in movies. Now, I want to tell everyone my plans. My partner will be kind, I will be a social worker and/or politician, I’ll have an apartment in Brooklyn with exposed brick! Ask me more!

And you know what else, feeling less suicidal has also allowed me to live more in the present. I have all this free’d up space to really witness the hustle and bustle around me. Instead of spending all of this time trying not to feel like I dying, I can now sit in an airport for several hours and observe the beautifully mundane world around me. Airport people are fascinating, btw. The bar was FULL at 6am and there were several kids on leashes. It is just a whole different place, almost felt like I was dreaming.

Speaking of dreams, I would also like to share changes my asleep dreams. Some of them have been seriously mundane. For example, I had one where I just went and got coffee and then walked to the park and sat in the sun and I met this super cute dog. It was simple and beautiful. I rarely dreamt before and if I did it was always a nightmare. I would wake up in panic with visions of me nearing death, often by way of murder. There are a lot of different theories on dreams. Who knows if any are correct or not, but I do know that something within me has changed. It can’t be a coincidence that when my mental health starts to feel more stable I stop dreaming of my imminent death. I must say, it has been one of the many perks of getting valuable help and really diving deep into my own psyche.

I know it’s cliche, but I am writing all of this because it can get better. Maybe right now you are reading this and thinking about wanting to die. Maybe for the last 10 years you have spent most of your days thinking the future isn’t possible. I see you. You’ve been through things and you have extremely valid pain in your life. If your dreams are more nightmares right now, it’s okay. It’s human and it happens. Please, be gentle with yourself. Give yourself the space to unpack the nightmares because they are there for a reason.

If you aren’t sure where to start, try reaching out to someone to talk to- whether that be me, a friend, a family member, a stranger on the subway, or the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (800-273-8255).

I see you and I love you and part of my dreams includes healing for you.

A[wo]men

my thoughts are silent films

the meanings my own-

to create

& feel

& hold

to rewind

& rewatch

& rewrite

-how i see my suicidal ideations

 

I Want to Live

CW: Suicidal Ideations

Happy October my fellow readers. I can’t believe we are already into spooky season. Especially because it is currently 90 degrees in New York and I can’t even enjoy a PSL (pumpkin spice latte, for you non-basics) because I don’t drink coffee anymore. What is life?

It really is strange this idea of time. I find it moving so fast that I don’t know whether I should start running with it or if I should grab it’s hand and tug real hard to try and slow it down. I was recently thinking about how different I was just 4 years ago. At this point in the year, I would have had a full halloween costume planned out and several parties lined up to go to. This year, I’m like, ugh could take a party or leave it. It sort of just sounds like a lot of work, tbh. I’d rather make a nice meal and have a glass of wine and watch a movie. Is this growing up?

I have been thinking of this idea a lot lately. Of growing up, and change, and the different ups and downs of life. This conversation I had the other day made me think about all the things I felt so sure of in my life and how those desires slowly faded or morphed into something new. I was talking to someone who was asking me about my tattoos. He said that he didn’t have any because he could never commit to one thing. He talked about his changing tastes and his joy that he didn’t get things like a doodle from his friends notebook permanently placed on his body.

I get what he is saying. When I was a teenager I wanted to get “all you need is love” written on the tops of my feet with a lighting bolt and heart underneath. Feeling grateful I didn’t have the money for that one. I also remember saying that I would never give birth to a child. I was adamant about it. Today, I am excited about the prospect of being a mom some day. Shh, don’t tell my teen self I said that.

I think humans are fascinating in the way we morph and change and grow into our environments. My blog 10 years ago would have been a completely different Sarah writing about her experiences. She wanted the Beatles words etched into her skin. She wanted punk rock hair and a nose piercing. She wanted to be a rebel without a cause (even though rebelling was the scariest thing in the world to her). She wanted to be someone else and at the same time she wanted to find out who she was. I would say this is accurate for most teens.

The other thing she wanted 10 years ago was to not be alive. I would write in my journals iwiwd (I wish I was dead), over and over again. I was so convinced that my fat body would never find love and therefore my reason for existing was null and void. I would spend years, literally, dreaming of being someone else. Someone else that seemed lovable- The cool girls from my high school, my friends, my family, the famous people I saw on TV. My cryptic messages in my notebooks though weren’t too hard to decode. My friends would find out I was feeling this way and they would help me get through it. They would sit with me and tell me all the reasons I was lovable.

My therapist told me that we all have stories we tell ourselves and sometimes these stories create a toxic pattern. This became a toxic pattern for me. The more sad I was, the more people told me I was lovable. This story was like wildfire inside of me, it burned bright and strong for a long time. I was so convinced I had to be the sad girl to be shown affection and attention. I didn’t even realized it was a story I was telling myself. I was, without a doubt, sad at the time and had a lot I needed to work through, but it is in this reflection that I have seen how this story plays out.

In my last relationship, I felt a lot of pain and I also felt a lot of love. That love though, was most felt when I was hurting. I hurt so much that I went back into that space. I wanted to be someone else, iwiwd. I would text him these things and he would come and he would show me affection and attention. The story line still worked and the embers that I thought were being put out through our relationship, rose up in a fit of rage when we broke up. I, again, was unloveable, unless I was sad. I like to emphasize that in the moment, this was not the narrative that I knew was happening. At the time I just thought this is depression and this is what happens with depression and even though he is the one that hurt me, he is the one that is caring for me. I want to emphasize this because I think people are often criticized for being manipulative or deceitful, especially when it comes to emotions. I would argue that this is false. I believe that all feelings are valid and have a reason for coming. I think it is only fair to reflect on those emotions when you are out of the situation so that you can get a clear idea of what was really happening. In a moment though, there is not always time to say ‘why do I feel this way? What is making me act this way? Is it from trauma? Is it true pain? Is it both?’ I think the healthiest way to be is to say I am feeling this way and to feel is valid and to reflect at some point will provide me with clarity when I need it.

I finally have some clarity. I sat down and journaled for a very long time the other day. I wrote about my past relationships, past abuses, past storylines, past feelings. I wrote until my hand cramped. It was one of those days where you have an ‘ah-ha’ moment of clarity. I think I actually said ‘damn, that’s it’ out-loud in the coffee shop I was sitting in. At first I felt shame. I thought about how cruel it is not only to the people around me, but to myself. To think I can only be loved if I am sad is a horrible story line to follow and I played the part well. As I have said in previous blog posts though, I get to keep writing and re-writing. This story line is the thing that is null and void now. I still get sad, but it is no longer an emotion that I use to prove I’m worthy of love. I get sad and I sit in it and sometimes I reach out and tell my friends and they sit in it with me and then slowly I move on from the sadness. There is no ‘if, then’ with my emotions.

We as humans are all worthy of love and connection and not just because of one piece of us. The people in your life that deserve your time and attention show you love when you are happy, sad, frustrated, disgusted, and everything in between. Those people that make me feel appreciated for all that I am, well they are the ones that I am holding onto as tight as I possibly can.

It is my hope that as I relearn my story and understand myself better that I don’t feel the need to scribble iwiwd anywhere else in my life. I can’t guarantee that I won’t ever feel that way again, but it is the hope that keeps me going. For the first time in my life it actually feels possible to live a life without suicidal ideation. I don’t know how to even express how that feels, but I will try.

It feels

Like birds flying free;

Like waking up with the sun instead of an alarm;

Like the deepest hug you’ve ever had;

Like floating in water;

Like a deep breathe of fresh, crisp air; 

Like your first bite of food after your stomach has been on empty;

Like crawling into warm blankets from the dryer on a winter day;

Like the subway showing up right when you arrive on the platform;

Like the first day of school; 

Like hope;

Like dreaming;

Like hearing ‘I love you’ for the first time.

Because that’s really what it is. It’s telling yourself that you love you for the first time and showing up, saying “I want to live.” 

-i want to live

If you or someone you know is struggling with these feelings please feel free to contact me for some support. I know what it feels like to think there is no way through the pain. And please try and tell the people you care about that you love them and care about them at random times, at times they aren’t expecting, maybe even right now. It can be so powerful to tell people how you really feel. I am also linking to the website Suicide Prevention Lifeline if you would like further support.

And to my readers- I love you, in all that you are, I love you.

A[wo]men