The Social Deep Blog"Life is so much more than the white-washed perspective of some ID-driven ape." |
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I held your daughter as she wept for you today. Not beside your deathbed or next to your grave, she didn’t cling to your picture but she is in mourning. She mourns the words of wisdom her heart aches to hear but she’s never heard you say, the loss of a blissful ignorance and hope. Her heart breaks every time you show her that you were never made to be the mother she so desperately needs, that you don’t have the grit and resolve to become that mother. I held her as she wept and I affirmed all her wildest dreams, except one; I won’t lie to her and allow her to hope that you will ever be half the woman she is already. A child, barely sixteen, and she is more self-aware and emotionally developed than you; her own mother. I have heard you utter the one word you are not capable of grasping the gravity of, and she believed you. She wants to believe you still; a part of her will always want to believe, that you’ve changed, that you understand, that you love her. With time and resilience, she will accept the truth and she will persevere despite you; or to spite you, either way, she will win. The truth is that without you, she really can’t lose. Sure, you’ve done your best, and it wasn’t easy for either; especially not “raising” such a high-spirited daughter, who just won’t submit. But then, that’s the real issue though, isn’t it?
Where to Begin
In my line of work, spirituality is a common topic of conversation. When dealing with trauma, it can be difficult to know where to turn or whom to trust and it can become debilitating learning to identify red flags of manipulation and genuine empathy. When you grow up being told that the people who are hurting you love you and want what’s best for you, those red flags become impossible to see. During the healing journey, an individual steps into their light and begins to see the blinders and identify errors in thinking that have perpetuated unhealthy patterns. This new perspective of their life and of their being, while promising and full of limitless potential, is terrifying. A new sense of vulnerability overwhelms the vulnerability they’ve known, and it’s that newness that is so intimidating. There is a strange comfort that exists in even the most toxic of familiar spaces. The demons you know become safer than the angels you cannot be certain exist. Looking into an uncharted and boundless future has a way of emphasizing how small some may feel, after trauma, yes, of course, but also as a symptom of shyness. The world seems so big when you feel so painfully small – and considering the notions of some omnipotent parental being having watched it all happen without interference sows trust issues on a whole new level. Living in the city, on top of thousands of others, in a box on top of a box — and shared walls — is horrid. The buzz of electrical wires and boxes, heavy-footed neighbors with vociferous habits and booming voices. It’s strange, to me, that anyone could ever truly enjoy it. It boggles my mind that some of you, those with a million other options, would still choose to live on top of each other. I don’t mean this metaphorically. No, I mean this in a purely literal sense. I lived above someone for several years — my floor, was [essentially] their ceiling. To be fair, I chose to live above others, because living beneath them is somehow worse. However, I do not want to be where I currently am either.
It’s 4 am. Soon the dark velvet skies of the night will converse with morning in hues of blue. Birds will sing to rouse the plants and greet the sun. The world around me will be waking up, and I haven’t slept. To be fair, I run best on a nocturnal schedule, but I haven’t been sleeping much at all lately. I wish I could say this was an infrequent occurrence. Unfortunately, that is not the case. The truth is that restless nights happen more often than not, and have since childhood. Sleepless nights become more frequent when stress levels have reached maximum capacity — which is kind of ironic considering the body needs more rest to recover from the damaging physical effects of stress. I’ve tried all the tricks. Not working in places of rest, no caffeine after noon [no caffeine at all], healthy diet and exercise routine— going to bed only when ready for sleep. That’s the kicker. My body is not often “ready for sleep”.
Many people seem to think that Depression is feeling sad, and in turn think someone struggling with Depression can simply choose to “snap out of it”. I hear it all the time, how it’s associated with tears and persistent sorrow. While it’s true that feeling “blue” can be part of it, Depression is so much more than “oh, I feel so sad today”.
If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please know that there are resources available to you and professionals that do care. There are resources available to you. |
Sheena MonsterShe/They/Theirs 
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