The Flush

"Graham Greene once said that life was lived in the first twenty years and the remainder was just a reflection."

I spent a lot of my time growing up contemplating and reflecting on my behaviour, sometimes as a result of confrontations, comments or constructive criticisms. I came to learn that I have always been an overly sensitive person, that even stories from my parents and families would prove it. However, I handle a personally overwhelming moment by resorting to silent treatments, isolation and sometimes, a complete break-down or what I would call the flush. When I feel so emotionally overwhelmed, the flush is when I would feel a certain numbness and a lump in my throat, but then I would start crying in random places, the shower when I pee when I brush my teeth while driving and prostrating in my prayer. I would write my thoughts down in a journal, so explicitly as a way to release the leftover. Only then, I'd feel relieved. 

Sometimes, I go to a certain dark place in my thoughts, a kind of fantasy where I think of my life coming to an end. Recently it was so dark that I snapped back to reality and started questioning a lot of things. 

Last February, I was put on medication because of inflammation in my head. Various thoughts went through me. I was so afraid that I was preparing myself for the worst. I don't know much about medicine, but a brain tumour would change my life tremendously. 10 days later I was relieved that the painful twitches were gone, but every time I woke up with a headache or a migraine, it created another anxiety. 

I get stressed when I hear something unpleasant about myself. It's a process that takes a while to digest. I guess it's because sometimes we believed that we have gone so far ahead in our lives, that the past couldn't get to us anymore but when it creeps in, it's uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to handle it, especially knowing that I've put so much effort into moving on (and letting go) with life. 

Moving on is easier said than done. It's easy to hide it, but it's harder when it comes back out.

I learned from my mother that it's easy to self-sabotage/ self-destruct. It used to be so difficult for me to express my feelings, but I learned to be more self-compassionate, although I couldn't resist stress-eating sometimes. 

When I read that I was called a liar, which wouldn't be the first. It still hit me hard in the face, that I clenched my jaw, my heart pounding and my whole body was heating up. I didn't burst then, rather I tried to get myself together and be mature about it. 

A day later, I started to overthink the statement. I tried to jug my memories, moments I talked to people, words that came out of my mouth, things I published publicly - everything. I tried to figure out which part of myself was true. Had I always been a liar but did not realise it? I know that I had done bad things, and I've made shitty decisions, but was I or am I a bad person? If so, what can I do about it? 

I didn't want to react impulsively, because if I did, I would have been writing in caps lock and full profanity. Another thing I learned about myself was that I have good self-control, but low self-esteem, so I opened the Note App on my phone and typed "Fuck Everything." Sorry.

I took my time. I swallowed half of the bitter truth and spent days recollecting myself. I was tough on myself, and I needed to be gentle. So, people have created stories about me and they were eye-opening. I expanded myself enough to understand that it was an opportunity to reflect. An opportunity for growth. If I was a liar, then now is my chance to right my wrong and watch my words. If I was a liar, then from now on I'll coat my honesty with only truth. And maybe I've lied in the past, as a reaction of self-defence. Maybe I've lied to protect somebody else. Maybe I've lied because people couldn't understand the truth. Even if I've lied, aren't they happier now? So didn't I lose?

But thank you, for insulting and offending me, so much so that I had to question who I was and understood that it wasn't too late to change. I also want to thank friends who were there to shed lights on my dark days. Life is not perfect and it can never be, so am I.

I am aware that this is not an uncommon situation, that many people undergo something similar. I don't want to blow this out of proportion and I am not mad about it (although yes, I was upset in the beginning). Instead, I am glad that something like this happened. I got to spend the week reading, healing, exercising and staying grounded.

So carry with you whichever version of me that you might've heard of because, in the end, I don't think it matters.