'Holding On' to Life

I’m not sure where to start today. I’m feeling a bit anxious and definitely scatter-brained, and my anxiety has been elevated since last week. (For those who didn’t read the first two blogs, I broke up with my boyfriend last Sunday due to a seriously gargantuan red flag. This blog, however, is not about that.)

This week, I dropped into a low-grade depression despite my medication. (I take Prozac and Wellbutrin.) I could feel I was going down the wrong path and, so, I arranged for an emergency therapy session with Abby, my therapist of roughly five years. We talked for an hour Thursday morning and, I have to say, it really helped a lot.

We talked about the break-up, as well as the memories coming up from my past. We focused on how things were different this time – how I was different this time. For starters, when I saw a red flag that was clearly and undeniably a red flag, I didn’t ignore it. When the answers to my questions were inadequate? I made the decision to protect myself instead of staying silent to maintain the status quo. I didn’t like it. It wasn’t easy. For a moment, I wanted to change my mind. I didn’t. I chose to stand up for myself, to protect myself. That’s progress. Huge progress, and it feels good. Really good. (And, yet, I still have moments of wanting to change my mind. But I don’t do it and I won’t do it because I made a promise to myself, one that I intend to keep. I’m moving forward, not backward.)

I talked about my memories, the ones from childhood. These have been returning in a slow wave over the past year and I’m getting better at breathing and sitting with the memories, and the emotions they bring, rather than simply reacting without any awareness at all. I’m learning to go silent, to enter into a meditative state where I can connect with the many younger versions of myself. I listen, I ask questions, I listen some more, and I offer the support they need.

I know for many of you this hugging and parenting your inner child might sound strange or even crazy, but it’s surprisingly effective. I realize you can’t tell from the blogs you’ve read so far, but I really have come a long way in terms of how I talk to myself and about myself – I’m much less critical and harsh. I’m more aware of my thought process. Instead of just subconsciously reacting, I can now see myself reacting and know that this is what I’m doing while I’m doing it. This has led to slow, but massive changes in my belief system and how I see and how I engage with the world around me.

I’m not done yet. I have a lot of subconscious beliefs that need to be excavated, studied, evaluated, and either tossed away or kept, depending on their validity. While you might think that this would be daunting, it’s actually the opposite. With every revelation, there is healing. With every healing, there is progress toward becoming me. The me without masks.

Yesterday afternoon, I had an in-person appointment with my family doctor and although it wasn’t supposed to be about my mental health, we did talk about it. This is something she does regularly now, whether we have phone or in-person appointments, to make sure I’m on solid ground, and not suicidal. For the record, I am on solid ground, and I’m not suicidal.

The last time I was suicidal was five years ago.

I was raped on January 18, 2016, by a man I met on a dating site. (This is a story for another day.) Ana was one of many names on a list I had received from the Ottawa Hospital Sexual Assault and Partner Abuse Care Program. My first ten sessions were free and although she volunteered to continue seeing me for free, we worked out a discounted hourly rate that I could afford, and I’ve continued to see her ever since.

I’ve made a lot of progress since I began seeing Ana. She’s not my first therapist. Since my teens, I’ve seen several psychotherapists, counsellors, and a few psychiatrists thrown in for good measure. Some were good, some were not. Some were peddling therapy I wasn’t quite ready to digest. One had a chart with a step-by-step plan created before she even met me. A few just listened with the occasional nod or clarifying question. One practiced hypnosis therapy. He was my first psychiatrist, and he was convicted of sexually assaulting his patients. He also liked to give out baggies of assorted pills. He lost his license to practice. Since that first experience, I do my best to see only female professionals, if possible.

Okay, so, back to when I first met Ana.

Five years ago, I was not in a good place. I’d lost my faith in humanity, and not just because of the rape, although that really didn’t help. I think I hit a wall. I was done. I had a plan. If it had gone accordingly, I wouldn’t be here typing these words today. (It wasn’t the first time I’ve had a plan, but it will be the last. I know that no matter what happens next in life, I will never put my family through the kind of pain and trauma that comes with a loved one committing suicide.)

What got me through? Health professionals, medication, crying, journaling, a support network made up of family, friends, and co-workers. And time.

Things slowly got better. I slowly began regaining my hope and faith in humanity – not all of humanity, but some. I also slowly began to feel safe again. This took quite some time, but I have to say that I did “bounce back” quicker than I had after the first time I was raped, which was when I was seventeen. (Without the proper supports in place, it took me close to fifteen years to work through that one.)

Where am I going with this? I have no idea. I didn’t have a conscious plan when I began writing today. I just felt like I needed to write.

In looking over my thoughts, I guess the theme of this blog is healing and the actions needed to make that happen. I’m holding on. I’m sitting with my emotions. I’m actively participating in the “work” I need to do to mend my heart and my soul.

I’m accepting myself for who I am, and where I am, at this moment in time. I’m reading books and articles that I feel are calling to me. I’m muddling through personal development workbooks on a variety of mental health topics. I’m listening to podcasts on personal development, health, and mental health. I’m taking my medication. I’m reaching out to friends, going for tea, chatting on messenger. I’m practicing gratitude. I’ve joined a woman’s support group on Facebook, where it is clear that a great many of us are facing similar challenges, whether in romance, self-love, or day-to-day living.

Mostly, I’m breathing, and I’m sitting patiently in the moment with my feelings.

I learned to become resilient early on in life. I fall and I get back up. Yes, there were times I considered staying down (suicide), but I didn’t. I got back up. I always get back up. I may not be steady on my feet at first, but I’m back up and I’m holding on, slowly but steadily making my way through the darkness and toward the light.

I’ve stayed on the surface here, no deep diving into the abyss. I have skimmed the surface of some triggering topics (rape, suicide, and general mental health issues) without providing details. I’m not ready to share those yet. I’ve mentioned them here because its what came out when I began writing. And, at the very least, it provides a clearer picture of who I am. My past experiences have played a significant role in shaping who I am today.

And this is me today.