Self-Healing

Friday, June 7th, 2024

I’m not really sure how to start this. I’ve already written about my coming out story. I guess I’ll start off with happy pride month. Being able to feel comfortable expressing myself feels, amazing. Even with the lives of my siblings hanging by a thread each day. When I first came out and would see everyone fighting to prove how we live our life is not their choice. That we are in control of our own lives. That we don’t have to conform to the majority. I was scared. I allowed the fear they impose on us take over for far too long. I would see people fight for our rights and think, ‘what’s the point?” But enough is enough. I am afraid, but I will still stand tall. We are being diminished for being who we are.

Being a part of the LGBTQIA+ is often depicted as a mental illness. Many people who are against the community will point out that people of the community have a higher possibility of having a mental illness than those who are not. People who say this won't think about the real reason as to why that is. They think because you are a part of the community, you have a mental illness. Meanwhile, a lot of them don't even realize, or even want to admit, that they are the cause. They don't understand what goes on, or why we feel the way we do. So they use an escape goat to shame us for who we are.

This past year, I have been on a self-healing journey. Truly getting to know myself and fix my own mental health. I even gotten into researching mental health to help my friends. Which got me back into pursuing my childhood dream of becoming a therapist and helping people with their emotional problems.

I was thirteen when I made that decision. I wasn’t passionate about anything else really. But that dream got placed on the back burner because I was also super passionate about art. I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. Nowadays it’s just a hobby. But when I got into high school. It was everything. It was the only thing I wanted to do. So I kept drawing. Changing my art style every now and then. But I was also very depressed. For the most part I was dealing with normal teenage drama. I used drawing as a coping mechanism. Halfway, through my freshman year I carrying a journal that I would write my own inspirational quotes inside. That’s when I ditched therapy and put all my focus into becoming an artist and writer. I had a lot of ups and downs during this time, but when I finally finished high school, I thought, that was the end of it. I thought to myself that I was finally out of the torment of my teenage years and now had to face the torment of adulthood. Although, my suicidal thoughts and self-harm, really put a dent into my plans. I got financial aid, and planned on going to Kendall college to pursue my art career and maybe become a YouTuber. But Kendall would only accept my financial aid if I had an associate’s degree. So I had to go to GRCC.

I only lasted a semester. From 2019 - now I considered myself as a college dropout, or that I just never went to college. Over the years, I learned a lot about life. More than I would have learned if I had stayed in college.

I had my first job in 2019 working maintenance for a golf course. I should’ve been fired because of how many last minute call-ins I had. Mostly because I didn’t want to show up to work at six in the morning sometimes. Even though I gave my boss the white lie that I was behind on school work. Once the golf course closed for the winter, and the semester was over, Covid-19 had hit. I didn’t find out about it until a month after it reached U.S. soil. By that point the only ‘mask’ I had wasn’t even regulation, since it had so many holes near the mouth and nose. Once Covid calmed down and stores were opening back up. I finally got a job working in the service department for Meijer for a year and a half. I started as a cart pusher, cashier, service coordinator, then pick-up. Working for Meijer helped me get off my feet and helped me put a dent in my depression. One of my coworkers even got mew back into writing.

After Meijer, I worked at Spencer’s Gifts for basically two years. I will never regret my time there, because a lot of my closest friends came from Spencer’s. As of writing this entry, I’ll hopefully be able to move in with two of them. But Spencer’s didn’t just help me get some close friends. They also helped me truly accept me, and helped me get further and further out of my depression. Without them realizing it. But I also noticed that they would still have their own depressive states. And I wanted to help them out. So I started doing some research on mental health, and in that time I regained my passion of wanting to become a therapist.

Which brings us to today. I start college back up this fall. Although when I did, I realized that I wasn’t actually a dropout, and my plans on becoming a therapist are very slim. I am currently on academic probation. Every time I think about it, I worry that I will never be able to reach such a dream. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. It was then that I remember not actually going to then front desk and telling them that I want to dropout. I remember the anxiety I felt as I walked towards the desk. All I could think about was how they were going to try and convince to stay, and I would listen and change my mind from fear of judgment. Now I look back on that day in disgust, anger, regret, and despair. However that’s not the only time I look back on and feel those emotions. I look back on the past decade I didn’t try to become a therapist. To become something I wanted to be. For the some of it I have accepted what has happened, happened.

Mostly because of the times I was in situations where this knowledge could have helped me. The first time I was a senior in high school. My friend got drunk and wanted to end her life after falling victim to a pedophile/groomer. Even then she still hadn’t realize it. It was me, her, and two other of our friends. The other two friends did way better than me when it came to keeping her alive. I was too busy freaking out. Eventually one of our friends, who lived close by got to her house and took her to the hospital. I felt so useless in that moment compared to the others.

The second time was when I was visiting my little brother’s father and their family. It was his older brother birthday that day and I was a little high. I was texting a friend that day and she told me how she had cut herself and wanted to end her life. Even when high I hyper focused on nothing else but her. Eventually I managed to talk her out of it.

The third time wasn’t as hectic. This was when I was working at Spencer’s and I notice my supervisor/best friend didn’t look so good. His eyes looked more dull than usual, his pace was slow, and he was shaking. I asked him about it and after a few minutes, he took me to the back and told me his woes.

One would think in that moment something would have sparked. It did. Just not as big. When I first started researching about mental health, I noticed that reading about mental health only worsened mine. It was then I realize just how deep self-hatred ran. That even reading about how mental illness works and how to combat it can send you into a self-hatred spiral isn’t great. Back then I was only doing it for my friends. In case I ever put myself in such a position again. I know what to say and do. But after a while I realize that I can do more with this knowledge, and feel more confident on going back to school.

A lot of those moments I have accepted. For the most part. This academic probation is going to have me beating the shit out of myself, because I doubt I’ll be able to have a chill day. I would say one obstacle at a time, but all the obstacles are reflected on the other. Meaning I can’t get over one. I have to get over all of them at the same time. But I will be trying to keep a level head about it.

Word Count: 1,523