Writing and Growing
When I first started blogging, I was writing daily, sometimes 2 posts a day. That was when my blog was anonymous, most of my readers were strangers, and I did not have to worry one bit about what people were thinking. I was not writing to help anyone else but myself. Most of my posts were journal entries about how I was getting through high school while seriously depressed and anxious. I did not know how to talk about those feelings, so I would write about them instead. Somehow along the way, as I was helping myself, I was receiving emails and comments from strangers. Instead of judging, they were supporting me on my journey. Many could relate to what I was going through, and many expressed that they were amazed at how I could express such emotions and experiences in the written word. For me, it was not about that at all. I was just writing, because it felt easier than talking.
When I realized my words were helping other people, I took a shift with how I was using my site. I was no longer anonymous, I deleted my personal Instagram account and I made my new one only dedicated to my blog site. I went from posting twice a day, to spending hours thinking about what to write next, and what people would actually want to read. I spent less time using writing as a journal, and more time trying to be an inspiration for others.
I recently was talking with a family member about the importance of doing things for you first, before the focus becomes about everyone else. He expressed interest in making videos, but that the more he would overthink about what people would want to see. The more time would pass, he would hold himself back from doing what he wanted. I related in a lot of ways. Blogging and writing was something I enjoyed, and when I put too much thought into it I found it harder to make it happen. People asked when I was writing a new post, and I pressured myself to please them. It was no longer helpful or enjoyable for myself.
Now that I graduated from college, and am about to embark on a new journey and a next chapter, I feel it is important that I make some changes with how I am using this site. I deleted many of my old posts, with the intention of starting fresh and writing new ones. I have decided to make this site’s focus about me first; my diary, my journal, and welcome others to read along. It may not always be pretty, I may be opening up a door to some vulnerable and darker sides to me. Writing has helped me to grow, and sharing my story is not at all easy, but in the past I have found it to be worthwhile.
Let’s get to it.
I was diagnosed with PTSD before my senior year of college. Looking back, the symptoms go back long before. The nightmares, the insomnia, my mind replaying difficult memories, the panic attacks and episodes of dissociation.
I never acknowledged I was someone who had experienced trauma, I just thought there was something wrong with me. At age 18 I learned for the first time in my life that I was survivor of child abuse and a household of domestic violence. I somehow took all the pain and put it aside, telling myself I should feel guilty for feeling so sad so often, for feeling like I did not belong. After all, I was a happy child from a big family, and things could not be as bad as they seemed. I have had to face the facts that both could be true. My childhood was both loving and wonderful, and though I have been privileged, things have been incredibly difficult too. I’m studying to pursue a profession in mental health care, while still learning how to cope myself.
It is difficult graduating from college, moving away from home, and trying to move forward with my life when every day my mind and body wants to go backwards and over-process things from my past. After two psychiatric hospitalizations and several counselors in 5 years, I am finally working with a psychiatrist on healing from trauma and the roots of where my anxiety and depression began. It’s fricken hard work, but I have never been more ready to do this. The work, has to start with me, before I can properly allow myself to take care of myself as I pursue a career in helping others. In the midst of COVID-19, my therapist’s office has become my bedroom, or my car via video call. I am grateful that I can continue therapy, and that even when I move to Oahu for graduate school I will be able to continue therapy virtually in another time zone. One of the challenges I am facing is that when my weekly session ends, the processing continues. I am having a hard time without a schedule, a hard time “leaving my stuff” in therapy.
One of biggest challenges is staying present. My mind always wants to drift elsewhere. Writing, helps to bring me to this moment.
I have started crafting a schedule for myself that will tell me when to wake up and when to go to bed. It will include getting outside, some type of activity, my weekly therapy session, and time set aside for writing. I have tried this in the past but I have failed to stick with it. I’m giving it a shot again now that I am home 24/7 and am out of school and work.
I have been asked how I am doing and I continue to say “Alright” which in my words translates to not great, but not terrible.
I’m hanging in there, aren’t we all?