Hey there,
So... cried a lot last night because of, well, my own doing. As my 🔋 already told me, "See no Evil, etc.", but did I listen? Nope.
So yes, my own doing.
And then, a couple hours later, I cried again early this morning, but rest assured, this morning's cry session was very much a happier one compared to the one last night.
Because, today, I was reminded once again that there are people in my life who want the best for me and try their best to support me, or even genuinely even want to surprise me. And it's crazy because these are people who aren't even blood-related to me, or have known me for years. So yeah, #blessed indeed.
Because I feel really blessed that even if the One has left, in their place I now have the Two. When they left, two people came into my life to restore the balance and are there to keep me sane. Everything I ever felt with my twin flame I realized that I was so lucky because I got a 2-for-1 deal when they both came into my life, filling in the homie-sized hole that was left in my life.
At the start it felt weird to be talking to someone too close to Home, but.
It felt right. I felt at ease. I felt happy. I felt safe.
Talking to my first 🔋 made me find a safe space. Talking to my second 🔋 makes me happy, especially when I see that she was also happy, and that if I was really lucky, I could make her happy. And when I'm worried, I go back and rant to my first 🔋 and then he tells me what I need to hear, because for some reason, they were always right, and then immediately I am put to ease.
Everything I felt towards my twin flame or Home, I could actually find this in other people, and it wasn't the same, but it was still enough.
It was still enough.
And that's why I wanted to talk about something very personal today.
Ever since March 9, I have been talking to 🔋 almost on the daily because there are new things I'm trying to figure out about myself. And then when my manic episodes started happening, and already started seeking help and support for my mental health, there were things I sometimes have difficulty telling my parents right off the bat. And sometimes when I'm freaking the fuck out, I don't know how to think and what to do. And that's when I turn to the most gentle of oxen for they were always right.
But aside from that, I have to give credit where credit is due, because I wouldn't be where I am right now, who I am right now, if it weren't for the people who put me here. I owe it to my family who was the perpetual support system, to my friends who are the family I got to choose, and all the people who ever truly believed in me. I have Home, as well as my two 🔋🔋and, most importantly, I also have Cloud now.
But mostly, I owe the positive shifts to myself. To be here now because I chose to be here.
And that I still get to choose.
So I'd like to share another preview about r e c o v e r y that tackles my mental health and the Issue.
Ever since I can remember, well, since I was 10 years old actually, I always felt like I never belonged.
Always felt like I was different in a bad way. Always had this urge to leave, because I had this sinking feeling in my gut that I didn't belong no matter what I did, or where I was. Always felt like a stranger in my own home.
I felt out of place, and I just had this constant urge to get away. As a kid, I've always wanted to run away.
Back then, maybe I just had an overdramatic flare, or I just took too much inspiration from adventure movies I watched as a kid.
But when I got into college and studied Psychology, I realized I had suicidal tendencies.
I never really told someone properly about this self-diagnosis, but it was true. I wasn't obsessed with dying just yet, but I was still suicidal in the sense that I just didn't want to exist, that I wanted to just be away.
And now that I'm much older and very much aware of what I now have, I have actually never felt more myself.
10 year old Arielle was different, she felt it and she was afraid, and she tried to be someone she wasn't.
But.
23 year old Arielle knows she's different, she feels it, and yeah, there are days she is afraid of what can happen should things go wrong, but the Me I am now is very much braver, even with the Issue and all my issues.
I do admit that I'm not always right, even when I want to be. I also can admit that I'm not as strong as my twin flame, their hella stronger than me definitely. A twin flame is a mirror of who you are, but I know I can't be this person entirely, for what I have is something different and it's what separates me from everyone else and makes me who I am, even from them.
So even if someone owns half my soul, it doesn't make me any less of a person.
I know who I am now more than ever.
And especially with this Issue.
It was important to come to terms with having the Issue when Cara had her Bully.
I was afraid of being Cara, of being like my best friend in the end. But I had a resolve, I made a choice, that whatever happens, I will never allow anyone to feel what it's like to lose a best friend to suicide.
Never.
So with that, and if you're still with me, I'd like to share with you a piece I love.
It's just me getting mad and fighting, as per usual. But it's me fighting the good fight for anyone who's ever felt that they were misunderstood for being who they are. Especially people who are like me, who struggle with the real world and come home having to deal with their own personal Issues, their own Bullies, their own demons.
That no matter what shit we have to deal with on the daily, no matter the heartache and heartbreak, no matter what the Issue does to the chemical balance in your brain, or if the Bully talks you into stepping closer to the edge of the ledge, or if death's just waiting for you around the corner as you cross the street? We gotta keep fighting, because no one should ever take us alive.
For we are still alive. This is our life. We are still alive to keep up the good fight.
This is me still fighting. For you, for You, for Me, and the Future.
I wrote this on a Monday, because on Monday's I try again.
~
April 16, 2018
Monday
I’m Fine, (No,) Thank You
Recently, I get asked a lot: How are you?
Before it was easy to answer. But now those three words are a loaded gun waiting to fire off. At me.
Because no matter what comes out after, doesn’t matter because no one believes me. Not anymore.
That I find it funny that when you used to make up words, when white lies were fine, when you said you’d go home earlier but couldn’t, when you used to lie between your teeth and say: I’m okay?
They believe you.
But when you start being honest, because honesty is the best policy, when you hate being guilty, when you can finally say what you’ve always wanted to say like: Yes, I’m doing okay?
They don’t. They don’t believe you.
So thanks for asking but what’s going on here?
Because everyone all of a sudden thinks they know me. Thinks they know all about me from what they see.
She seems so fragile so twisted so odd so peculiar so loud so selfish so messed up so different.
So different. So? Why would you want to leave out the rest?
What happened to the other things, like: she seems like she’s strong enough, doing okay, doing much better, she can handle it, she’s doing good, why she’s so brave, so honest, so authentic, so nice, so selfless, you’ve changed a lot, where is all this maturity coming from, why she’s brilliant.
I know I’m brilliant. I have a different shine, I have a different light.
But no one’s really seen it before.
And somehow this makes others nervous, this makes them so afraid that there are people who want to dim this brilliance, snuff out the flame, turn the lights out.
They shut me down, drown me out, make it dark, turn my light off.
Turn them off because they don’t like what they see.
They see me and they see danger.
And they are afraid because of what I can do.
They’re afraid of how my actions can hurt them when I don’t even know them.
They see me as a threat that needs to be destroyed. Sees me as an obstacle that needs to get out of the way, even when I’m not there, not even physically present in the room.
Thousands in attendance, why they were even looking for me, I wouldn’t know, but just because I didn’t show, all of a sudden I’m the talk of the town. And all because they didn’t see me.
But no. That’s not who you see.
Because when you see me being kind, when you see me being grateful, when you see me saying thank you the only way I know how, when you see me hugging strangers and inviting them to dance? When you see me bow, and sing out loud and jump around because I still can? When you see me having the time of my life, celebrating my tiny successes and my life? When you see me celebrate me for who I am?
You see something else.
You saw me, you did. And you didn’t like it.
Because all of a sudden everyone knows enough about me that they can talk about me. And they can talk for me.
And they can talk to me and say, “There’s something wrong.”
Yeah, I know.
That’s why I’m here.
That’s why I’m asking for help in the first place.
Because I know.
And when everyone’s telling me what I already know, what I’ve always known since I was 10 years old.
From a stranger who I’m supposed to trust, just because they have a few PhD’s between the two of us
From a friend who is more experienced and older than me, tells me she cares but also that I do not know how to listen?
Now who’s being more unfair?
When I know I’m not the victim, but you’re talking to me like I’m about to enter into a lifetime sentence.
I’m still not playing the victim card because I know who I am.
I know I’m the hero because like one I fight all the time. I know I’m the writer of my story, because I’m a work in progress. I know I am different, but that’s what makes me who I am.
But you look at me and treat me different in all the ways that don’t count.
Like I’m wrong.
Like I’m a lie.
Like I lie.
Like I can’t be trusted.
Like I am ugly.
Like I am not worthy.
Like I am my illness.
But I know you really care. I do.
When you worry, when you worry for me, when you are afraid for me.
When you’re afraid of me.
But no.
I’m tired.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of proving myself. I’ve been doing that my whole life. Proving my worth, proving that I deserve to still stay, proving that I can be fought for.
But I just want to be me now. Can’t I be me for once? Now?
And I know, I know okay.
Not because I think I’m always right, I just know because I’m self-aware not delusional.
I’m aware that I am sick. Yes, I’m sick in the head. But that doesn’t define who I am.
If you have a cold you aren’t branded for life when you’re trying to cope and even when you get better. They’ll even sign off your Sick Leave forms for you.
When you have a headache, you can swallow a pill or two, and no one will judge you for it. They will give you the pill, no prescription needed.
Arielle
When you get into an accident, they rush you to the ER, give you all the medical attention because they want you live, They’ll fix you and then confine you in a hospital because they want you to be safe. Keep you safe until you recover. Because they want you to.
But when I can admit that there is something wrong in me but still can have the strength and the courage to say “I’m doing just fine”, because I don’t want to live in denial, I want to live in the now, and when I have accepted all of me but still is aiming towards my own Recovery?
No one believes me.
No one.
In the time I needed them to believe me and in me—they don’t.
And I can be as genuine as true as me as I can ever be, but you will only see what you want to see.
What you choose to see.
And I chose for myself too. I get to choose because I can still choose. Because I still have that power to.
I am still free to choose.
And I chose. I chose to see what I want. And that means being able to stand in front of a mirror, to see all my flaws, see that I am broken. Look up and see me, but still say “I am hella cute”, because it took me so long just to be able to say that out loud and really mean it. To be able to say and own, “I am hella cute” even without the mirror, even with eyes closed, because I don’t to need to see it anymore just to believe it.
And I chose. I chose to see the happiness I found in my life, what I’ve been surrounded by all my life. I used to be afraid because I thought the whole world hated me. I come into every room and think, “Shit, I don’t deserve to be here.”
Felt like a stranger in my own house, the black sheep of my family, the extra chess piece you can kill off at the start of the game because you can.
But I chose happiness anyway. Because I see it, I see it now and so I put on my shoes and chase after my happiness, what makes me happy, because it’s free.
And I chose. I chose who to love, whether or not they deserve it—whether or not you think they are worthy of me. Not everyone is as blessed, are as lucky as me.
I’m sick in the head, but I can still choose who I spend my time and energy on because those are valuable to me. And I have a lot of friends who I consider as family, and I have a family who I can call my friends.
But I will still choose Home, because they redefined what home means for me. I chose Him, because he matters to me. And I am alive because he exists and tells me he still wants me for all of me.
Teaches me to try to love again. Not just Him, but I can love myself again.
Allows me to really listen to every unspoken “I love you so much” even when it’s not told to me. Even when Home can’t tell me in person, I know how much they still love me even when they can’t say it in words. But I still know His heart, hear it beat for me, because I hear my own heartbeat, because I chose to hear this.
I hear it.
It reminds me that I am still alive. That I still exist. That I still have a lot to do. That I can be better because I deserve enough for being enough.
So I keep choosing. Make my choices everyday. Choose to wake up and start over.
But I will choose what I want and what I know I need.
So don’t tell me that there’s something wrong with me.
Because I know. We know.
We all know.
Because:
We’re crazy, not blind.
We’re sick, but we can still come to work the next day.
We’re tired, but we still make the choice to try again.
We’re trying, because we know we can be better.
We’re trying so hard to be better because we want to.
Be better.
So thank you though for showing me how much I still matter.
But no, thank you, I won’t allow you to dictate and redefine things for me any longer. Society, schools, governments and even religions have already done enough, I don’t need more people to prove something that’s already been proven.
No, thank you to misplaced advice. No, thank you for all those times you approached me just to see if I’m still on the verge of breaking down, just to reassure yourself that you’re a good friend.
No, thank you for all the words I don’t even need to hear, especially “I’m sorry’s”, because I’m tired of hearing that.
So,
No, thank you.
But all the same.
I’m doing just fine. Thank you.
How about you?
