Lately

Hi, it’s been a while. I’ve been awfully quiet recently, online and in some social ways. 

Since I was ten or eleven years old, I’ve felt this thing; life starts feeling unstable and in an attempt to stabilize it I sacrifice a lot of myself, I bury myself in holes that only I can see. I shut down a little when I’m in these holes, but only a little. I’ve always felt like I had to keep things moving for the people around me. When I was young, I didn’t feel like there was any space for me to not be okay. I had to keep a smile on my face, keep pretending I was functional when I didn’t even know what being functional meant, because it was what was expected of me. Now, I am aware how my mental health can have an affect on others’, specifically Jacob, and I’m very careful not to allow it to impact him and our home life as much as it affects me. I’m not always the best at this, but I try.

So, typically, it’s just me in the hole. Over the years, I’ve found ways to pull myself out. I’ve read books that have kicked my ass into gear, I have taken steps to take better care of myself, I have given myself some very serious pep talks in the mirror, and eventually I find my way out of the hole. I start feeling more like myself again. 

The hole I’ve been in for the last couple of months has been a deep one, and I think there are a lot of things that have been contributing to the hole, digging it deeper and making it harder to claw my way out of it. I’m getting older. As terrifying of a thought as it is, it’s also good. I never really did enjoy anything about being a child as a child. As an adult, there are things I loved about myself in childhood that I lost and I’m rediscovering, and that part of life has been beautiful. With the resurgence of these childish feelings and memories comes the resurgence of my childhood itself, and I think that’s where I’ve been getting stuck.  

I’m about to finish writing my book, and what I mean by that is: I am finished with it and I will be trying to publish it soon. For almost five years, I’ve been fully immersing myself in memory, and especially the worst memories I have. Every time I read through the stories I’ve written, my opinion about the events change. For a long time, I wasn’t mad about certain things; I was aware that they were messed up and that no person should have to live through the events, but I wasn’t necessarily mad. Life happens, people make mistakes, and it’s never been that big. Recently, the things in my childhood that kept me from being a child have felt monumental. I realized that I think about my childhood like it was yesterday, and I think about it everyday. Nothing is ever going to change how deeply seeded in my brain my past is, how it has shaped me into the person I am. 

I feel a lot closer with my childhood self now than I think I ever have. I suppose that's something that happens as one gets older; one spends so long trying to escape the horrors of their adolescence only to later return to the things they loved or thought was so childish during childhood. For me, I have found a returning love of art and getting my hands dirty. I used to love playing in the mud as a kid and making things out of something other people consider dirty. Now, I’ve been having a lot of fun making pottery. I’m not amazing at it and I’m just making little pinch pots, but I feel myself returning to the patch of dirt in my yard when I make them. I remember decorating my creations with berries and leaves. As I make my little pots and squish the clay between my fingers, the memories of mud after a thunderstorm come to my mind.

I have rediscovered my love for exploring nature in a similar way. Now that Jacob and I have a yard, I have found a love for planting things and learning about the plants growing in the yard. We have a winterberry bush, which is like the midwest’s version of holly. We have a redbud tree in our front yard and a big maple tree that drops helicopter seeds in our garden; we are constantly having to restrict the maple tree from multiplying. 

Yet, in my return to the things I loved in my childhood, there is again the return of the bad. I remember more vividly what it was like to be me as a child. I remember how lonely I was, feeling like I didn’t matter. There were many times that my wellbeing was sacrificed or disregarded. I felt like I was on my own, and I shouldn’t have had to feel that way. I have forgiven many of the failings of both my parents, but I am not such a forgiving person that I have forgotten, nor have I forgiven everything. I guess if I were a more forgiving person, I wouldn’t have written my book, but I am tired of keeping secrets for people who weren’t looking out for me when I needed them to. I am tired of waiting for my feelings to become a priority to those it should have been a priority for from the very beginning.

If you’ve been looking for me lately, or possibly waiting to hear something at all from me, I’ve been in my hole. Rest assured, I’m on my way out of it. I’ve been crawling out of these holes for a long time, so I know when I’m all the way out of it I will be a changed human again. I can feel this change preparing me for the next phase of my life and I’m ready for it. 

This month, I am thankful for Taylor, my sister, because she has been such a rock for me while I’ve been in my hole. I am blessed to have someone in my life who knows what I’ve been through, who sees the past the way I see it, and who gives wonderful advice. She also has the best self care advice, and I appreciate that she’s been sharing herself and her journey with me. I’m also thankful for Jacob who has been so patient and encouraging. He celebrates the small victories with me as well as the big ones; he counts our blessings with me when things are hard and loves me effortlessly when things are easy. I’m also thankful for my dad who makes his presence a comfortable space for honesty and growth. I wouldn’t have made it this far without him.