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kaberettThis time last year was extremely rough for me. The recap in brief goes a little like this: two friends died, my master's project derailed, I got pneumonia, and one way or another I came around to find myself woefully out of my depth in the tarpit of depression.
I dropped out of my course, started anti-depressants around the new year, and start being able to remember anything other than a blur again from about March.
So many of you invested so much time into me then. Thank you.
I'm writing this now because my month of morning, November, is very nearly over; and because today I had the last of the counselling sessions I arranged when I was sorting out coming back to university.
The running themes have been very straightforward and very simple. We have, by and large, talked about boundaries; we've talked about acceptance and forgiveness; about my constructs of incompetence and my difficulty asking for help; about The Worst Thing In The World [content warning: abusive dynamics]; and about trusting myself: letting myself be afraid without spiralling into fear of fear, listening to my body, doing things I feel called to without judging myself for them. And, of course, about trusting other people - to tell me when to be quiet, to tell me that they like me and mean it, to not let taking care of me take precedence over caring for themselves.
We've talked about those things from a lot of different angles, in a lot of different lights. And... and I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I still have days where I am desperately, desperately mad, but that's six hours of an evening once every few months, and people I love - who love me - will sit with me through it, will keep me company while I verbalise nonsense beyond my conscious control, will cook with me and eat with me and curl up on the sofa and watch shitty TV with me.
Out of necessity I've grown used to treating bright patches in my health as temporary. I can sit with this, and I can accept it, and I can treat myself with kindness about it.
Today, we talked about how maybe - sometimes - it's okay for me to put that fear down - to recognise that I can be grateful for good health, that I can ask for help when things get worse, that things never have to get that mad, that bad, that lonely ever again, for me.
I am allowed to trust myself, and I am allowed to ask for help.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I dropped out of my course, started anti-depressants around the new year, and start being able to remember anything other than a blur again from about March.
So many of you invested so much time into me then. Thank you.
I'm writing this now because my month of morning, November, is very nearly over; and because today I had the last of the counselling sessions I arranged when I was sorting out coming back to university.
The running themes have been very straightforward and very simple. We have, by and large, talked about boundaries; we've talked about acceptance and forgiveness; about my constructs of incompetence and my difficulty asking for help; about The Worst Thing In The World [content warning: abusive dynamics]; and about trusting myself: letting myself be afraid without spiralling into fear of fear, listening to my body, doing things I feel called to without judging myself for them. And, of course, about trusting other people - to tell me when to be quiet, to tell me that they like me and mean it, to not let taking care of me take precedence over caring for themselves.
We've talked about those things from a lot of different angles, in a lot of different lights. And... and I'm okay.
I'm okay.
I still have days where I am desperately, desperately mad, but that's six hours of an evening once every few months, and people I love - who love me - will sit with me through it, will keep me company while I verbalise nonsense beyond my conscious control, will cook with me and eat with me and curl up on the sofa and watch shitty TV with me.
Out of necessity I've grown used to treating bright patches in my health as temporary. I can sit with this, and I can accept it, and I can treat myself with kindness about it.
Today, we talked about how maybe - sometimes - it's okay for me to put that fear down - to recognise that I can be grateful for good health, that I can ask for help when things get worse, that things never have to get that mad, that bad, that lonely ever again, for me.
I am allowed to trust myself, and I am allowed to ask for help.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-28 11:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-29 02:28 am (UTC)is here, is listening
Date: 2012-11-29 02:11 am (UTC)Re: is here, is listening
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