I haven't really been here in a while.
So hello. Welcome back. (Thank you).
First, I'm sorry for tricking you with my "Dropping out of College" post. It worked, though! And I'm not dropping out of college. I'm set to walk this May.
I've been hesitating on posting anything in a long time. Taking this past job as an NHDP Organizer was the greatest thing I have ever done. I've learned so much from that position, and am continuing to, even though it's technically over. I met some of the best people I ever had the pleasure of experiencing life with, and I learned a new form of self awareness and self confidence that I've never had before.
It was also one of the hardest things I have ever done.
The position called for 90 hour workweeks, pushing forward through the criticism, and continuing to be inspirational enough to get people involved even though you are being beaten into the ground by social media and people against you.
I've learned so much, but I had no idea how hard it would be to come back to society after a job like that one. I've been virtually unavailable, posting and tweeting about only politics, surrounding myself with only other political friends, and physically and emotionally unable to do anything that didn't have to do with politics. There's a grieving process that comes with this job ending. There's a form of a loss. Now, I'm back at school. I'm with my old friends. I'm attempting to come back as I was. But I've realized that that's impossible.
This job changed me so much. It changed my outlook on life, what I demand from my relationships, and my stamina. I don't know how to be back in society with being virtually a new person. I think I'm learning.
One thing I've learned with this job, is the importance of asking for help. I could not have gone through those days if it weren't for my fellows and their snacks, blankets, gifs, and companionship. They saw my hurt. I learned the importance of showing my hurt.
Anybody who knows me knows that I don't naturally ask for help or show vulnerability. But this is me. Showing my vulnerability.
As I'm learning how to come back from this job, I'm having new, stronger bouts of my mental health declining. There are many things that could cause this uprising. It could just be that I'm on an upswing naturally as winter comes. Or it could be a host of issues. I don't know, and I don't think that's important to know.
The important thing is that my mother changed this worldview of mine - that I had to deal with my mental health alone. It was three days after Thanksgiving. I was having anxiety attacks all morning. I was incapable of leaving the house to get our Christmas tree. I was in the bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub, sobbing. My mom was there. Holding my face. My entire other family was outside, waiting for me.
Then she said something that made me seize in terror.
"Let's go. Show them your vulnerability. Show them this. Let them hold you."
So I did. Because the woman I trusted the most in this world, trusted it. I tried. I had a beautiful rest of the day.
This is not some big blog post about "just holding each other close and your mental health will be fixed!" That's not how mental health works. It is an ever-present instability, looming over your shoulders. I think I'm learning, though, that maybe it isn't something I have to do alone.
I'm still learning. I'll always still be learning. I hope this post helps someone, because it's truly terrifying to show the world my insecurities.
Learn to hold each other, because there's a beauty and a strength in protection. Sometimes you just need protection from yourself, and that's ok.
So on this day of a deep low swing of depression and upswing of anxiety, I'll walk through these valleys, and I'll hold everyone's hand. I won't allow myself to fall into silence. I'll allow the help to come, and maybe today won't be as hard as it has to be.
So hello. Welcome back. (Thank you).
First, I'm sorry for tricking you with my "Dropping out of College" post. It worked, though! And I'm not dropping out of college. I'm set to walk this May.
I've been hesitating on posting anything in a long time. Taking this past job as an NHDP Organizer was the greatest thing I have ever done. I've learned so much from that position, and am continuing to, even though it's technically over. I met some of the best people I ever had the pleasure of experiencing life with, and I learned a new form of self awareness and self confidence that I've never had before.
It was also one of the hardest things I have ever done.
The position called for 90 hour workweeks, pushing forward through the criticism, and continuing to be inspirational enough to get people involved even though you are being beaten into the ground by social media and people against you.
I've learned so much, but I had no idea how hard it would be to come back to society after a job like that one. I've been virtually unavailable, posting and tweeting about only politics, surrounding myself with only other political friends, and physically and emotionally unable to do anything that didn't have to do with politics. There's a grieving process that comes with this job ending. There's a form of a loss. Now, I'm back at school. I'm with my old friends. I'm attempting to come back as I was. But I've realized that that's impossible.
This job changed me so much. It changed my outlook on life, what I demand from my relationships, and my stamina. I don't know how to be back in society with being virtually a new person. I think I'm learning.
One thing I've learned with this job, is the importance of asking for help. I could not have gone through those days if it weren't for my fellows and their snacks, blankets, gifs, and companionship. They saw my hurt. I learned the importance of showing my hurt.
Anybody who knows me knows that I don't naturally ask for help or show vulnerability. But this is me. Showing my vulnerability.
As I'm learning how to come back from this job, I'm having new, stronger bouts of my mental health declining. There are many things that could cause this uprising. It could just be that I'm on an upswing naturally as winter comes. Or it could be a host of issues. I don't know, and I don't think that's important to know.
The important thing is that my mother changed this worldview of mine - that I had to deal with my mental health alone. It was three days after Thanksgiving. I was having anxiety attacks all morning. I was incapable of leaving the house to get our Christmas tree. I was in the bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub, sobbing. My mom was there. Holding my face. My entire other family was outside, waiting for me.
Then she said something that made me seize in terror.
"Let's go. Show them your vulnerability. Show them this. Let them hold you."
So I did. Because the woman I trusted the most in this world, trusted it. I tried. I had a beautiful rest of the day.
This is not some big blog post about "just holding each other close and your mental health will be fixed!" That's not how mental health works. It is an ever-present instability, looming over your shoulders. I think I'm learning, though, that maybe it isn't something I have to do alone.
I'm still learning. I'll always still be learning. I hope this post helps someone, because it's truly terrifying to show the world my insecurities.
Learn to hold each other, because there's a beauty and a strength in protection. Sometimes you just need protection from yourself, and that's ok.
So on this day of a deep low swing of depression and upswing of anxiety, I'll walk through these valleys, and I'll hold everyone's hand. I won't allow myself to fall into silence. I'll allow the help to come, and maybe today won't be as hard as it has to be.
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