And We Move Forward
I wanted to wait to upload this blog post until after the new year hype calmed down, but I am a truly impatient person.
So, let me start by saying WE MADE IT. We really made it through the worst absolute year of all of our lives collectively. We made it. If you feel like you have nothing else to be proud of (which I’m sure you do and you’re just being humble), be proud about making it through 2020.
I have never seen more hardship than I have in this past year, for every single person in my life. All of our lives have changed drastically in 2020, whether we wanted and welcomed the change or not. We adapted when necessary, we stumbled through anxiety and loneliness, but most of all we sacrificed. Sacrifice for the greater good, or sacrifice for someone you love, is the highest form of selflessness I feel you can ever reach. And for that, I am proud of you.
Now, I know that probably means nothing coming from a 25-year-old loser living at her parents’ house on Long Island. But regardless, I mean it.
This is the part where I want to let you all in a bit more than I have in the past. I mean, yea I’m pretty much an open book on here anyways. But I write this blog for all of two reasons. The first being that writing is and always has been such an enormous outlet for me. The second and most important reason that I write this blog is that I always hope that the bullshit I go through and the absolute joke of a life that I live can either make you smile, or let you know that you’re not alone.
2020 was the absolute worst year of my life. Just to be SUPER blatant. I tumbled back into a depression that reminded me too well of the darkest period of my life back when I was 17. I teetered on the line that separated my strength that I found after my previous depression, and the dark hole that is sadness, emptiness, and loneliness. I knew that no matter what, I would not let myself get back to the point I was at in my teenage years. But I would be lying to you if I said I wasn’t scared.
I was terrified. And not of anything out in the world, or COVID even. I was terrified of myself. For those of you that have struggled with depression before or may even be struggling with it now, you know that the darkness is almost addicting. You find a comfort in the sadness. I was afraid that it would get the best of me again. But I didn’t let it.
For the past two New Year’s Eves, I have celebrated it with beloved friends. New Years was significant for me in that it introduced me to love. I found someone I gave my heart to on a New Years, and thus the holiday became more important to me than it has ever been before. Over the summer when I was engulfed by the darkness, I thought about holidays... My birthday, the 4th of July, Labor Day, and above all, New Years. I thought about how lonely I would feel, and how scared I was to face what was the most significant holiday to me, without someone I thought I was going to spend many more New Years Eves with.
Until one day in mid-September, I snapped out of it. Completely. With the guidance and harsh truths told by some dear friends, I just woke up.
You know how when you’re just an absolute mess and you’re crying a lot and your mascara runs down your face and you look like the Joker mixed with a raccoon? And then someone trying to help says to you “it’ll be okay!” or “don’t be sad!” or “there’s people in this world going through so much worse than you right now”? When people say things like that to you in the midst of your breakdown it really just doesn’t help you feel better at all, right? Well, while it’s nice to hear those things and have someone to talk to, you actually need to let it out and be sad. You need to cry and listen to your emotions. Holding things in doesn’t work for me, and I truly can’t imagine how they work for anyone else. We are human beings. We were made to feel emotion. EVERY emotion... love, laughter, excitement. But also, pain, anger, betrayal and fear. My therapist told me a lot this summer that I shouldn’t hold these feelings in, especially after everything I went through. I had to let it out and cry, and I should not feel guilty for not being okay. I was so extremely unhappy for so long but I wouldn’t even admit it to myself... because admitting it to myself meant that I would have to remove myself from the situation I was in. And to me, that felt like I would be a failure.
After sacrificing so much of my life, the life I loved SO dearly, to experience love, I didn’t want to fail. I wanted to exhaust all options before I took the “easy way out.” Let me explain what I mean by “I wanted to exhaust all options.” By this, I mean that I let myself be miserable because I was so focused on making someone else happy who didn’t even know how to love. I exhausted my soul and I sacrificed who I am all because I wanted to be loved the way I loved. And when that didn't work, I thought that there was something wrong with me... my past, my bubbly personality, my loudness. I dimmed my light so someone else could borrow it and light their own path, in hopes that they’d come to understand the love and sacrifice I gave. And for the longest time I felt like my light would never return back to me, and that no matter what I did, I would never be the same and I had failed myself.
But through time, I came to understand that the mentality I described above, was false. I didn't fail at all. I didn't fail because I moved back to New York. I didn't fail because I ended a relationship I sacrificed so much for. I didn't fail because I let myself be disrespected, tormented, abused, and manipulated when all I wanted to give was love. I did everything I could and for that, I am proud. There is nothing wrong with me. I started to see my light in the darkness. I remembered how strong of a light I am and how even though I find so much joy in helping others see their light, I could not let mine go out.
It’s a very blessed and beautiful thing, to have friends who won’t give up on you. Friends that let you repeat yourself over and over again for months about how depressed you are. Friends that let you bitch and moan and complain and cry SO much about your heartache. Friends that may be in the midst of mourning a painful death in their family, or a financial crisis, or a mental breakdown themselves, yet STILL listen to you and hug you and tell you they won’t leave your side.
As lucky as I am to have had these amazing people in my life who helped me through this terrible year, I still had to go to bed and wake up as Alexandra. No one else was able to sub in and take my place for a bit. I had to do this on my own. I had to make myself believe how much I am worth. It’s so nice to hear how special you are from those you love, but at the end of the day, you are in this life for you.
I knew that I would keep feeling depressed and anxious and extremely sad until I loved myself enough. And one day, I just did.
I am truly in shock that it is January 2021. I cannot believe that I got through last year. I really can’t. I know some people reading this have gone through extreme loss, grief, and complete exhaustion in 2020. And I want to be clear that I am not in any way undermining anyone else’s struggles from this past year. I can think of many names off the top of my head of very close friends and family in my life who have lost so much because of Coronavirus. My heart broke for you and still does. I just wanted to share a piece of honesty from my heart to show how important self-love is. We all make mistakes and we all could be a bit nicer to each other sometimes, for sure. But be nice to yourself first; not at the expense of others, however. Learn to love yourself as much as your mother loves you. Or your siblings, or your best friend, or God. And don’t take shit from anyone.
On New Year’s Eve last year, I was so extremely unhappy. I was not myself, and lived through the shell of who I once knew myself to be. I lied to myself because I thought that the trauma I was experiencing was okay. I thought I’d be able to endure it and stop it from happening over and over again by sacrificing every ounce of my soul that I had left. But my soul isn’t anyone’s to take.
On New Year’s Eve this past week, I could have gone to a good friend’s house to celebrate ringing in the New Year. Or I could have gotten together with some other good friends who I knew were also laying low. But I chose to spend it in the home I love, with my family, my dogs, and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc instead. And at 11:57pm I went upstairs to my room (in my parents’ house yes, I know....), I put on my favorite song by my favorite band, and I muted the TV and watched the ball drop. Alone. And I cried. A lot. And I’ve never been more proud of myself.
I finally feel free.
Whatever you’re going through right now is a lesson. Give yourself time to heal. Feel whatever you need to feel. Then pick yourself up and look in the mirror at the warrior staring back at you.
We are all warriors. And we should be proud of ourselves.
Here’s to a brighter, better, and happier year. Filled with extra feta cheese, of course.
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