Happy by P!nk
Dammit, these lyrics make me really angry at myself. They’re honestly carved into my being and I have been stuck here for so freaking long that I feel the line “I don’t wanna to be this way forever” so damn much.
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The road to vulnerability is a long one. Not static. Not easy. Not without cost. Not without the brilliant dichotomy of beauty & tragedy. The shedding of skin. Transformation. Losing oneself to an identity you may have spent years building & the subsequent unexpected grief that accompanies that loss. As the former you clings, wails, weeps & gnashes her teeth, desperate to subdue the old you. You are no longer her. You cannot be. But the new you, this brittle, damp, weakling who startles at most everything, can this really be you?
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Here I go, unveiling my story, god this makes me feel extremely vulnerable and anxious.
How did I get here?
For as long as I can remember, I need to find a reason for everything. I’m seeking insight, accountability, I want growth.
Life changed drastically for me in 2013. What I now know as depression and anxiety, words that were not on my radar during that first deep dark bout with depression. I didn’t understand what anxiety meant. What felt like endless weeks that eventually turned into months of feeling depleted of any positivity or happiness…
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I can remember writing this journal page vividly. My hope was if I could see the patterns of the spiraling down, I could grab ahold of the signs and triggers of the isolation I was feeling. It took a long while before I could begin creating a plan to dig myself out of the recycled patterns of the darkness I was living in.
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Self-hate can come in many forms and in varying severities. For Melissa, this hate was severe enough to trigger harm at her own hands.
“I cut myself for the first time when I was 11,” Melissa shared. She struggled to see the beauty within herself and to find enough self-love to bury the pain – even if it was just a little bit. She always found curves on women to be beautiful, yet when she looked in the mirror and saw her beautiful curves, she felt disgust. Why, she wondered, were curves beautiful unless they were reflecting back at her?
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