Until you were gone

New year, new me(yeah I said it)

Image and video attached above
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This past year had a lot of ups and downs for me and that on top of dealing with my final year of high school and final examinations made it incredibly stressful and challenging. I learnt a lot about myself and tried to make a limited number of really stupid and impulsive decisions. I spent time just trying to make myself happy and for the first time since "Isaac" passed away, I saw myself truly catching feelings for another guy which was a lot to grapple with because it made me feel guilty on some level. After he died I was broken and I encountered a lot of people who handled my situation badly and who weren't genuine but there were diamonds amongst the rough and I had amazing support from people whom I'm eternally grateful for and who know who they are. I wasn't as alone as I felt...

Turns out that guy was a fuckboy and he almost broke me more but whatever heartache I felt in his wake, I'm also grateful for him because he helped me to finally let go and give myself a chance to start living again and to let my dead boyfriend Rest In Peace tbh. I stopped wearing the dog tags (there's a pic of them in a previous post, at the top) and that was a huge deal for me. I'm also thankful for the ways in which my maths tutor helped me beyond my maths marks. He once told me that I'm never going to find someone because I haven't let go and I'm not letting anyone new in, whether it be friends or more. I once complained that I kept getting drawn in by fuckboys and my friend told me that honestly I just needed to stop looking and focusing on others and to start focusing on myself - best decision ever.

I wrote this following essay halfway through 2018 and I'd like to share it with you because it marked a pivotal time in my life:

The wind beneath my wings

No less than 21 months ago, she caught herself sinking, set in motion by winding gears that had unknowingly tipped her over the edge with only her broken wings to break her fall. That's the trouble with taking leaps: you don't always soar and every so often you wake up in a pool of regret far away from Heaven's glorious gates.

Perhaps not showing up for her final half-year exam was an act of true love and a show of devotion to the recently deceased, or maybe there was nowhere else she could bring herself to be. I doubt that she paid any attention to the new looseness of her old black dress around her torso as she moved hesitantly, nor to the caution in the eyes that watched her carefully as she clutched his life size teddy bear to her chest. His memorial service at Crawford North Coast was where she had to be because in those moments, absolutely nothing else mattered.

Fully consumed by grief, she found that she had adopted a pessimistic outlook on life. She let herself cling to the sound of his voice captured by old videos and became mesmerized by the way his pink lips mouthed the words "I love you" and kissed her forehead sweetly.

We all grieve differently, but what is doubtless is that everyone faces denial after an incomprehensible loss. She tried to put on a brave face and comfort others who had felt the loss too. However, whether she curled up and cried into her duvet or enjoyed lunch with friends who had kindly tried to lift her spirits, she still constantly received judgement and failed to please the keenly watchful people on the outskirts of her life. That might have been what pushed her to open a bottle of smooth white tablets, not stopping the almost ritual process of bringing her pale lips to the rim of a glass until she had swallowed 30 beautiful pills. Maybe that too is what gave her the courage to wrap her spidery fingers around the handle of a sharp knife. Her sweet saviour.

Life has a funny way of teaching people lessons that they often can't comprehend at the moment of occurrence: by stealing happiness to make way for real growth and positive changes. Suicide attempts are more frequent than many people would like to think because although some use the term "depression" lightly, it is, in fact, a mental illness of dire consequence. It doesn't make a person inconsiderate or weak, instead it speaks to the severity of their suffering, to how desolate they must have felt to build up the courage to self-harm and to end it all. I can't call her selfish because I know for how long she had felt suicidal, I know how many times she had edited the last words she had left for her loved ones. Regardless of how many people call her attention-seeking and selfish, I know that she just cared too much. I know that she was strong because it takes real strength to go from being terrified of the risk of organ failure between concave bowls of sickening bile, to surviving. I don't think that she woke up one morning the size of the BFG, but gradually, she did grow. On one morning she knew that she didn't need to rely on her psychologist to prevent oncoming panic attacks and on another she stopped convulsing at the thought of swallowing a tablet and eventually, she understood that she no longer needed to hear words like "It'll be okay", because it already was.

I have learnt from her what it takes to overcome true tragedy and how to grow from something that could so easily define one's life. She let her experience make her braver, stronger and more resilient. She became wiser and more understanding by means of her unfortunate life experience. She learnt good composure and how to stop bottling up her feelings. In short, her mental health began to thrive and if you ask her what shaped her into the young lady that she is today, she'll share parts of this story with you and she'll do so with smiling, tear-free eyes because she has moved on. Not from him onto better things, but from bottomless depression onto "in loving memory".

Her experience has taught me how to cope with loss and has made me incredibly grateful that I am able to see the good in each bad day and laugh unabashedly with my friends. Her story has helped me to always strive to be everything that she became and to truly appreciate my lack of real suffering. Ultimately, I am most grateful for the fact that I don't have to walk in her shoes because I'm not "her" anymore, my wings have healed and today, I soar.
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-T