Thinking Back

I don't think I'm angry anymore. Instead, I wish the best for you and look forward to learning what's you have in store.
At first, I thought it was all my fault. I piled all of the things I didn't do or should've done into a giant mound over myself, nearly suffocating from the weight and the heat. I felt abandoned. I felt unlovable. I felt rejected. And I knew that my mental health struggles had gotten the best of us. All of my worst fears had come true and when you saw the mess I was, I knew you would leave. And you did. At first I was hurt and angry, mostly with myself but also with you.
But as I've been investing nearly all my time in getting mentally healthy, I've also spent a good deal processing all these feels. Before I felt like I was looking up at this looming ship of inferiority that was about to crush me like a tiny bug. But now, I'm learning to allow myself to feel, work to gain perspective, and stop and give myself a hug. It's tough. It sucks. Losing someone you love and coming to grips with the fact that you may never see them again. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking all of it is nullified now that the other voluntarily left your side. But I will fight. I will fight to keep in mind the numerous situational factors that slowly drove a wedge between our lives. I will fight to recognize the unlikely environment the pandemic forced upon us, something that neither of us was prepared for, something that would bring stress on even the strongest of relationships. So much uncertainty, so many unknowns, so much being thrown to the wind in exasperation because nobody had answers or any direction.
I know you did what you believed was the best thing for you, and I can now see that the best thing I can do to love you is to let you go. But I'm still rooting for you. I still hope you can find what you need in your new move. That your career will develop and build into what you hope for. That you'll find people in your life who can provide life-giving support. I hope that you can find rest and peace, that you can find happiness and freedom from the Asia stress.
I know that our relationship had its rocks, and that my anxiety left you feeling put in a box. I know neither of us were perfect and my work often became a burden for you, distracting from the life and exploration of the city and terrain we found ourselves in.
But I also recognize that we experienced so much together. We climbed mountains, ate meals, baked together. We tried new things, you held me when I cried, we laughed and laughed until we were doubled over gripping our sides. There were so many special little things that I will treasure, so many experiences I'm thankful for and will remember forever. You brought joy to my life when I couldn't find it any place else, were rays of sunshine in the midst of a hurricane. You helped to keep me sane. Of course there are so many things we both could've done better, but I'm grateful for the time we shared in Shenzhen together.
When things had gotten quite bad with my anxiety, I remember you saying "You need to find happiness without me." I didn't realize that you would later leave, but I'm thankful that I'm finding it. Joy and peace.
Looking back, I don't feel angry. I feel sad because I lost a best friend, as well as a sense of stability, but I'm also learning to find that elsewhere. I can see beauty all around me again. I can see hope that you always told me about in the past, but I could never quite grasp it through my clenched fists. I didn't think growth and change was possible, I thought I would be stuck with the rucksack on my back forever. But I'm watching as change happens. I'm watching as life seeps back into my empty shell, awakening from the hell that was all this anxiety and stress, and likely depression. Before you were the only thing that could pull me out of it, but now I'm learning to crawl out myself. I'm learning to rely on the help of God.
So thank you for being there for me. For listening and walking with me. Thank you for the time we shared. I'm sorry you never really got to know the real me, but I'm grateful she's coming back out again for those around her to see.

Blessing or Curse?

I think lately I’ve realized that I have this tendency to roll things over and over in my mind, seeking to gain a deeper understanding and see a new perspective of the issue at hand, but I’ve seen that it’s not always well received.

Some feel like it’s going round and round in circles, wasting time and energy to say the same thing again and again.

And maybe there’s some truth to that. 

Just look at how I've been writing about the same thing, saying basically the same ideas in different ways. 

Maybe it’s part of the obsessive thoughts that cause me to keep running back to things I’ve already thought through, causing my mind to become enveloped with the thought, examining it from every side, hoping in it to gain some new insight.

Or maybe I just don’t like the thought, and so I roll it around in my brain hoping that it’ll morph and one of these times it won’t be the same as it originally was; somehow it'll be transformed into something easier to swallow.

I’ve come to realize that this is both a blessing and a curse.

I would much rather not have this issue of obsessive thought. I know I can’t change anything by just thinking harder, and it often causes frustration for friends and partners.

But sometimes it does lead to a change in perspective, greater empathy or a slightly different lens through which to see things.

I’m learning that the best way to strip these obsessive thoughts of their power isn’t to try to force them out of my head or shame myself for being drawn back into the same thought over and over again. Trying not to think about it or judging myself for being distracted by it only makes its grip stronger.

I’m still not exactly sure how to maintain a healthy relationship with these thoughts that linger, but I’m learning that change is an inevitable part of our existence. That no matter where my mind stands today, it’s apt to change. And that’s okay.

Overthinking and obsessing may be able to be redeemed into a gift that helps me to see that which others may not always see, but I also see that getting lost in the sea of thoughts can cause me not to be present.

I don’t think I’ll ever lose the part of my identity that tends to overthink things, and I’ll likely keep examining all sides of situations, but maybe that can be shifted into a healthy relationship with thoughts and perspectives. 

Transform me by the renewing of my mind. 

Back in Indiana

In an effort to speak with complete honesty, I thought being stuck here for months would be a tragedy. In the first few weeks, in between breakdowns, as I was groping desperately for any sense of routine, I fought to believe it was possible to get better in this space.
But as I was making intentional efforts and getting the support I needed to get a grip back on reality, I found the grace to submit it to God. Even in a season when everything feels dry and distant, when questions and doubt seem to characterize the everyday, I found grace. I knew full well that if I found healing here, it would be by the grace of God.
That's not to say I don't love my family, for I dearly and deeply do. But it can be challenging at times to find peace of mind in the midst of the struggles in life here. With no friends around, family challenges, in the midst of a pandemic where I've been unexpectedly away from my home in Shenzhen for almost 4 month, away from friends and community, and with no clarity for what's coming around the bend, I knew healing would be His doing.
I don't feel the same obligation as before to fix things or usher in the restoration of certain aspects of relationships. I'm beginning to understand that I can't fix some things, and instead I can practice patience and love, trying to withhold judgement for things I don't quite understand.
Each of us are broken in our own ways. Each of us have a story. And hopefully I'm on the road to becoming one who asks. Who validates. Who listens.
Right now, nearly all of my energy is being invested in me. Before I would feel utterly guilty for that, but I think maybe this is one key way I can give back right now. If I'm not healthy, stable, and secure in my identity, how can I love others well?
It's a weird time now, with no inkling of when I'll go back home. And realizing all of my time at that home was invested in one person (aside from work) who won't be there when and if I return. That hurts. I can't even imagine it, nor do I want to, but that's what'll happen if I ever get to go back to my place in Shenzhen.
So now that I'm not being controlled by anxiety, now that the depression is lessening, I'm working through losing someone I loved dearly who left voluntarily. I'm also coming face to face with this truth that I have no clue what I want to do with my life.
I forget what I enjoy. I struggle with the sheer overchoice.
But I don't have to have it all figured out right now. I don't have to have plans set in stone. I'm learning to again walk confidently into the unknown, yet seeking clarity and listening well, including to myself, but walking in the confidence that comes from a faith in something greater than myself.

After Life

Moved to tears. Feeling feelings in depths I didn't know existed. Watching another man's pain after he's lost something that meant the world to him. Seeing him wrestle. Seeing him fall. Seeing him hurt others in his pain. Seeing him begin to find life again. Then fall again and cause more pain to others. Feeling his feelings, hurting with him, yet finding myself so caught up in the story that I can't help but cry for joy when he finds the slightest bit of hope and beauty and happiness. 

He feels helpless and hopeless. He feels like there's no reason to go on. And if he does, he can live however the f*** he wants. It's not important who he hurts in the process. 

But that's not where the story ends. No. We get to watch as he struggles. As he finds friendship in the most unlikely of places. As he finds himself smiling despite himself. We get to see the care of humanity as others care deeply for him even though he hasn't done the least bit for them. 

We see the shift in him. The shift that happens over time, filled with relapses and pain. But the shift that means there's more. That means it's not all hopeless.
Watching him rediscover that hope, that spark, that desire to live. Seeing him realize he's been an ass. Watching him become aware that others struggle, too, that we never know someone's story until we invest the time to listen and be. Listening to him express appreciation for those who never gave up on him. To see the power in his first steps to healing. And to see the impact that has on those who love him. 

"Hope is everything"

I haven't been this moved to tears by a show for as long as I can remember. He's in so much pain. And his story is so powerful that it's planting sobs deep inside my throat that are surging their way to the surface. Tears streaming down my face. But why? I'm not really sure. 

I just know that there is so much life in this show. So much pain. So much beauty. So much hopelessness that's illuminated by the slightest spark of hope. There's laughter and heartache. There's levels of emotion I don't even have words to adequately express. All I know is that life can be so ugly and so hard and feel so hopeless. But happiness is not completely out of reach. Healing isn't impossible. Joy isn't forsaken. 

I don't even have words for how deeply this is moving me. It's reaching into the depths of my being and awakening something that I wasn't even aware of. Powerfully touching the depths of my soul, resulting in a flood of emotions rushing out through my eyes.

Maybe it's because I relate to it. Maybe because they just did a good job writing and making it. Maybe it's because life really is this dynamic ride filled with change and pain and redemption. 

Maybe, just maybe, there is life to be lived in the midst of the kingdom coming. 

Storms

Storms can ruin our hopes and plans, sometimes even causing destruction and pain.
But it seems that growth and new life always seem to come after the rain.

Running Thoughts

My job isn't exactly a walk in the park.
But I've recently realized that it's not as impossible as I felt up till now.
It's more like an easy to medium run.
But before I was carrying an 80lb rucksack that kept getting heavier with the increasing stressors and crises and uncertainty. But I didn't realize I was carrying the rucksack.
I just thought I was weak, that the weight was a part of my body.
You see, I had a distorted view of reality.
So what you saw as easy and that I was unnecessarily freaking out, I saw as a race I could never win.
Each thing weighed me down more, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move forward.
Maybe you saw the rucksack and tried to tell me to take it off, but I saw it as a part of my own being. Therefore I couldn't understand when you tried to help, I just thought I had to fix myself.
I saw the burden I was becoming for those of you who were walking or jogging with apparent ease. My complaining and wet blanket of an aura was cramping your style. I saw that but felt hopeless.
I was barely surviving.
Then, when I had a that conversation, it was the first time I had the realization that maybe the extra 100 lbs wasn't normal. Maybe it didn't need to be there. Wasn't inherently a part of me. That was the first time in a long time that my twisted reality came momentarily into a blurry focus.
I had to get the rucksack off.
But I didn't know how.
I didn't have the strength or tools to take it off myself.
I searched for someone who could help, but my mobility during the crisis made that a difficult order to fill. I just desperately wanted help. Now I could more clearly see the toll it was taking on relationships, but I felt helpless. Hopeless. It seemed I'd never get it off. Even if I left my job, I'd just be carrying it on with me to the next one.
No, I needed to be free from the extra burden, to find my lost self, to be lucky and free again as I uncovered the me underneath.
So after bouncing around, crying out for help, I finally found some. I started the journey of learning to take it off, throw off the weight and be lucky and free. Medication. Therapy. Prioritizing healing, investing time in me. Meditation, reading, exploring contemplation. Seeing the cognitive distortions that contributed to building the weight I had internalized as something wrong with me.
After several weeks of hard work, surrendering this healing work to a God who is able, I think I'm learning to taste a life where I am capable of running.
The rucksack is gone.
Yes, I've got to relearn proper form, retrain my back to practice proper posture, get back in shape and  learn exercises to help prevent it from reappearing, but now I can finally look back and see the reality of the situation.
No wonder it seemed impossible.
No wonder dread and discouragement followed me like a lost puppy.
I didn't realize it until recently, but that wasn't the real me. I had become one with the extra weight, coming to resent and hate who I had become. Feeling incapable of doing anything under the sun. It weighed me down and deeply affected those closest around.
And for that I'm so sorry.
But now, I'm relearning to be lucky and free.

April 24. I'm learning.

Accelerated Resolution Therapy. ART. Cognitive Behavior Therapy. CBT. Medication. Meditation. Reading and workbooks. Reflection and long walks. Savoring and good talks. Letting go of perfection. Allowing myself to be human. These are a few of the things that have been recently bringing me healing.

I'm my own worst critic. I have unrealistically high standards for myself, and at my worst, I project those onto others as well. I generally absorb all of the blame, thinking everything is my fault and I need to do better in this exhausting game. I move so fast through life, moving cities and countries quite often, never really allowing roots to grow or the ground to soften. I have so many experiences that have subconsciously shaped me, but I haven't taken the time to process them and see their reality.

I'm learning to slow down.
To breathe.
To be present in the moment and recognize the beauty.

I'm learning that it's not always my fault. That yes, of course there are things I could've done differently, but instead of beating myself up for that, I can use those as opportunities for growth. I'm learning that sometimes the environment and situation has more of an impact on relationships that I'd like to admit. I'm realizing that my stress boxes have been maxed out, and anyone else in my situation would probably also be breaking down. I'm realizing that mental health is so important and so vital to health in other areas of life. I'm realizing that it's okay to take time for yourself. To invest in yourself so that you can be a better friend and help for others down the road. I'm learning that I don't have to have it all figured out right now. That change is an inevitable part of life, and it's not necessarily a bad thing.