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It’s been a lil over a year since i had my first real nervous breakdown. Wrote letters to my loved ones, planned my suicide and almost succeeded on my second attempt. The main trigger was loneliness. I felt so invisible. I felt unseen, unloved. Disconnected. I was so broken.
Financially i was at a low. I had realized i hadn’t poured anything into myself fr since i moved away. I guess i coped with being homesick by focusing on everyone else, i had disregarded myself and didn’t even notice. I was living through the people i was closed to.
I was scammed out of some money, evicted from an apartment i had just moved into as a result of said scam, like my shit was literally on the street. Working doubles at a restaurant every day simply because i just didn’t want to go home. I just tried to stay busy to shake it off.
I lost so much weight. Didn’t even notice it at first. I was like 130 at one point. I was too sad to eat, too sad to even drink the sadness away. I was like enveloped in sadness. Everything in life was wrong. I felt it was karma for leaving my nieces, my brother and mom back home
Like the universe was laughing in my face. How could i have ever thought i was more than Opa Locka? How could i ever have thought i was going to leave home and win and within a couple years reach back for my mama nem and move them to Atlanta. I had done Nothing i said i would.
And as crazy as it sounds, i would have rather died before i failed before my family. I had come so close to winning so many times and it would just keep imploding. Every time. Without warning. I was not stable. On any scale.
I was ashamed of myself. Ashamed of the decisions i had made, the people i had chosen to be vulnerable with and share my energy with all for those people to just shit on me. It was a weird ass space, that I’m happy I’m removed from.
But that lonely feeling haunts me some days.
But that lonely feeling haunts me some days.
I can’t say that i lost myself and found myself because there are still so many moments where i still feel lost or just alone. I wish i had that story but i don’t. There are some mornings i literally have to pray myself out of the bed, still coach myself to keep going.
After i started going to therapy, and really unpacking my shit i just discovered so much. It was like opening Pandora’s box, i wanted to stop going so many times but my mom would encourage me to go the next week, and the next week, and so on. So thankful for that experience.
One thing my therapist helped me to see is that i was expecting people to show up for me that were simply not going to show up for me. That i hadn’t required most of these ppl to be there for me emotionally because i grew up putting being kind to others before my own well being.
This was learned behavior, but that i also should not blame myself because people had disappointed me. That i was not stupid, i was just hopeful. And that i needed to take my hope in those people away and put it somewhere safer.
Everybody is not equipped to be kind to others.
Everybody is not equipped to be kind to others.
