I could very easily write this post using my other laptop - faster, lighter, and probably won't shut down if I move it even so slightly but this macbook holds memories. I feel bad that I've left it unused for so long, leaving the battery to die and needing a replacement. Anyhoot, that could be tomorrow's problem to think about.
I had been hesitant to write on my blog because I got scared. I got scared of opening up and sharing things online. I don't ever want this to seem like I am crying for attention but this blog - it's my space, my platform to express whatever I want to, right? And if someone out there can't accept the way I write, or how my mind works...then please, just let me be.
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My dearest gentle reader ( lol )
How has life been? Was 2024 good to you? Are you glad it's a whole new year and you can start over again?
2024 was a bit of this and that, somewhat like bittersweet dark roast coffee with a hint of vanilla. The humidity was crazy because you struggle to recover from your seasonal allergies and rashes. But on top of it all, the spike in cortisol levels in your body could turn a good person into a monster.
There were some good moments in that year. Walking through the streets of Hanoi, the endless buzzing sounds of Jakarta, and feeling lost in Bangkok. . and perhaps, finding comfort in someone's arms. So warm that sometimes at night, I still crave it.
I guess a lot of people called it the year where everyone was a on survival mode. I could resonate. There were so many things that were beyond my control, but still, every part of it consumed me entirely, and at the end of it, I was emptied out. However, the moment anyone I love needed me - I gathered every single drop of that energy I had left, so I could be there for them.
Slowly, I began to lose interest in my work. Work had been one of my biggest stress factors. Actually, it's not the workload, it's the people, the environment and how lonely it was. The commuting gets to me every so often. My back was aching a lot, and my body felt so mush and exhausted all the time.
The last 4 months of 2024 were prominently painful and dark. My workplace was sucking the energy out of me, and somehow, as simple as it sounds, at the end of the day - I just needed someone to talk to. About my mundane day and how annoying my co-workers had been. There were colleagues I could talk to, and we'd have lunch together, but somehow - I needed more. I needed someone to check in on me and ask about my day, and not make it seem like I was just complaining.
I learned to talk less. So I listened more.
My mind and my body got heavier each day, that I would wake up in the middle of the night, with chest pain. Then I woke up in the morning, my face all grumpy just because I was still so tired. Like I could literally felt the puffiness of my eyes. I knew where this was all going...
DECEMBER.
My least favourite month of the year.
"The pain of having lost something major is so intense, you wish that it's physical only so you could locate it and massage it with your family's most trusted ointment. Find it, extract it, and heal." YL
For the first time, I admitted defeat. I completely surrendered myself to God and admitted how weak I felt, and how exhausting it had been. I couldn't pray for more strength patience, or resilience... I just wanted to be able to breathe again.
I thought I could reach out to some friends, and maybe just catch up. I just didn't expect that most of them recommended me to get therapy. Had I gone so dark or depressed enough to be needing it? Perhaps. Perhaps it's the passive suicidal ideation or the longing for just one person to tell me "I'll be here for you, we'll get better together" - and because I felt like everyone was pushing me away, I thought I must've been a bad person, or at least not worthy enough to be anyone's friend. I drowned myself in this negative conversation, yet I always got so angry at how harsh I could be to myself.
"YOUR BUCKET, IT'S FULL."
The four words that I didn't expect I needed to hear - to confirm that I wasn't crazy. Because I deserve to feel happy again, and to be in my best mental state, I decided to go for therapy and seek help. Because my bucket is so full, all that I could do lately was just cry. My Dr also helped to shift the way I look at things, especially myself. I have to be able to recognise my own values, to see why my circumstances are in the way that it is. He understood where I was coming from, and was shocked about where it all started. My PTSD is real and apparently - living with it has consumed the best of me, so I would have a lot to do, to unload and let go of everything that's been kept. I am scared, but I am determined.
My meds are kicking in and I should be getting a fully restful sleep tonight. I'm sick, and alone, but God is with me - and I know He knows I'll get out of this soon. or maybe He'll gift me with a newer shinier bucket to start over.
I will write better, once I get all my thoughts properly placed together. But for now,
Until then. x
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