When I moved back to Texas this time last year, it was 100% my choice, but it wasn’t what I wanted. Every part of me was yelling, “don’t do it.” I ignored that part of me, which was the first step back towards who I used to be — and not the good me.
It’s funny — as I write this, I know feel that voice telling me not to go is the one that pushes me towards my passions. It’s the same tiny whisper that I so often ignore, but when I choose to let her do her thing, wondrous events occur.
The most horrifying aspect of being back was the negativity that consumed me. Wherever and whenever I let it in, it got in deep — just like that. All the yoga, meditation, positive-thinking, healthy living left the building.
With the negativity came emotional jealousy, scoffing, gossip, unhealthy eating, obsessive-compulsive behavior, and isolation, which also triggered depression.
I was rolling my eyes when I saw a friend achieve something or succeed after hard work. I was jealous of everyone back in Colorado hanging out without me. Sarcasm was my pride, and my pride was driven by the fact that I believed I was smarter than everyone else, wasting their time with dumb things like encouraging others or celebrating the small things, when really I was just a sad, sour, smart-ass.
Admitting all of this now is not me asking for sympathy. This is me talking about a topic people need to talk about more: mental health. Let’s keep the conversation going.
This is the first time I’ve logged into my blog since April. I just moved back to Colorado and have already had an insanely unfortunate week due to long trips in the car, a wreck, and a sick cat – but I am the happiest I have been in a long time.
There is no person or place to blame for the negative year I had except for myself. That makes forgiving myself easy, because I’m the only one involved, and not easy, because forgiving yourself is one of the hardest things in life to do.
Just because I failed in hundreds of ways over this last year does not mean I have to accept that as how my life is meant to be lived.
Pulling myself out of the shroud of darkness (so dramatic, I know, but I love it), was the hardest thing I did all year. It does not mean I’m out forever, but it means I know I can do it and I know how to do it when it happens again.
We need our failures and our successes; we need the darkness and the light, and we need to talk about all of it. Not just the good things. We also need to have the guts to kick our own asses and call ourselves out. That’s what jolted me awake and back towards myself.
It’s so good to be back. Here’s a song that describes my messy and beautiful life:
I took a little journey to the unknown,
And I come back changed. I can feel it in my bones.
I fucked with forces that our eyes can’t see.
Now the darkness got a hold on me.
Oh, the darkness got a hold on me.
— Lord Huron