I recently looked at myself in the mirror and for a brief moment, I didn’t recognize myself. I couldn’t tell you what felt off, however, but it wasn’t a bad “off.” I looked at this person, and for once, I didn’t see a high schooler faking her way into adulthood. Instead, I saw someone in her own right.
I never really considered myself deserving of anything as I got older. And this feeling only intensified as I got older. Every good grade, gift, compliment, or relationship I received or put work into just felt wrong in my hands. The work wasn’t enough, I wasn’t kind enough, my anxiety and depression made me less than whole. I couldn’t be complimented without lying my way through an awkward thank you or smile, or accept a gift without feeling incredibly flustered. It seemed like at any given second, everyone I loved and cared for would simply up and leave me because they’d expose me for the fraud and awful person I saw myself as.
This all came to a head when my long-term relationship of a year and a half came to an abrupt, (but in hindsight, very expected) end. On top of that, one of my closest friends from high school and I had a falling out that resulted in the plug being pulled on four years of deep friendship. What followed suit could only be described as an identity crisis. My worst fears had come true. I cried for nights on end, cursing myself for losing people I cherished with all my heart. They were all I had left of my previous life. I ended up in psychiatric care for the longest night of my life—my life had hit a new low. All I could repeat in my head was, “I can’t live with myself anymore.”
After a brief period of getting better in the spring, COVID hit hard. My father was sick for weeks, I was separated from my new friends at school, and I was left isolated with only my thoughts. There were nights I didn’t sleep until three in the morning, not really caring if I drifted off. The nights I did sleep at a reasonable time were frequented with vivid nightmares and warped memories of the past making a whole new creature. My only saving graces were my lectures with my Civil War and Modern Chinese history classes, my cats, my former roommate Chinyu, my psychiatrist, and my best friend Cassy, who was nearly 1,000 miles away. Trapped with myself, I felt myself slowly slipping away. Where did I end and my self-image begin? They became tangled, enmeshed with each other with every passing second in isolation. Music, baking, knitting, wiring, reading, you name it, were just mere distractions from this lingering and intensifying disassociation. I wanted out of my body and my mind.
As quarantine lifted, part of me didn’t care about returning to normal. But something very instinctive bolted out the gate, refusing to deal with the depression that had washed over me. The first few weeks were difficult; I had no clue what to do with myself, who I even was after the past half a year. I went back to work at our local art studio and put myself back to work, and my students showed me I was loved and needed. I downloaded a Bible app (like any good Jewish girl),worked on plans with my best friend Cassy, rediscovered my faith, and found God in my struggles. I cut my hair in a 70s-style shag cut, finally feeling brave enough to be bold in my aesthetic. Doing little things for myself started to restore who I finally was. This was someone I wanted to take care of, someone I wanted to love.
Where did that get me? I felt confident enough to want to put myself out there, meet someone, and I met my lovely boyfriend Thomas as a result. I still teach my amazing students every week with my little art-studio family. I nanny the two most incredible girls, and I’m Auntie Jenna to my perfect niece and nephew. I picked up bass again with my longtime friend Rob. I allow getting out of bed to be a well-earned victory, and simply working hard enough of a standard to fill. I let myself have bad days because I’m only a person, and that’s okay. There are days when I still feel tangled and insecure, of course. But I let myself feel instead of trying to push it down or away. I cling to the little things, the small pleasures in life—a hot shower, a cup of tea, a minor task done. These things have helped me find gratitude for myself, and they saved me.
You have to live with yourself for the rest of your life, no one else. Find what makes you happy, lean into it, embrace it fully. Take care of yourself how you need. I am grateful for myself, and I’m grateful for you too.
If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline ‘1-800-273-TALK (8255)’ or text TALK to 741741 at the Crisis Text Line