Strikeout
10 years ago this month I went to my first therapy appointment. I was a freshman in college and was struggling with an internal, emotional storm that can only be described as multiple hurricanes pulling me in every direction at the same time. My parents, like all good American Italians, don’t believe in therapy so this was at my own will and the urging from those closest to me. I was doing beyond well in school, as my depression acts as a destructive force that separates me from reality by focusing on over-work and tasks rather than the natural needs of my body. Something really needed to change.
Every November is bad for me, mental health-wise. But this year, I’ve been dealing with a bunch of unpleasant and repressed memories and images that I’m now tackling head on. These types of challenges that arise are easy for me now. A new layer to peel back in a session is like finding a new gym routine to fix a problem area in your physique or weight. It’s like succumbing to the sleep paralysis in order to overcome it. I’m good at it now. But it’s still a challenge.
When you express your mental instabilities, or even just insecurities, you open yourself up to a lot of people using that as ammunition against you. How many times have you seen the overly-emotional drunk person posting God-knows-what at 3am on Facebook, and instead of asking them if they’re ok, make fun of them to yourself while getting ready for another day at the office, gym, and a Friday night out with your friends, sticking to a routine so stringent, that you wonder if you actually aren’t one break up or argument with your boss away from falling off the deep end? I’m open and honest with myself and my readers, so you bet your ass, the only thing people seem to comment on when they’re really trying to hurt me is my drinking or being bipolar. Well congradufuckinglations, that story already leaked years ago and you’re late to the party. Find some new material. And better yet, reach out to people who seem like they’re dealing with something a little bit bigger than too many vodka red bulls after a night out. There’s a 10 year challenge for you. Instead of focusing on the superficial glow ups in our appearance that make people around you think you have it “all figured out”, look at how you’ve grown internally, or if you even have at all.
Someone posts a new luxury car or an expensive vacation on Instagram and you feel happy for them, but jealous too. “Why am I not in the Azores or driving a BMW?” Don’t get me wrong haha I’m all for living large and celebrating our goals and victories. Bitch if I had an Audi I’d mail out Christmas cards with that thing. But what I’m saying is, you only see the image, not the individual behind it. Whether or not we want to admit it, not all of the “upgrades” we make in our lives actually are upgrades. People see a new car or vacation and though it very well could be just that, sometimes it comes with a price. It seems fine now to accept a vacation from a sugar daddy you just met, but two months from now, when he flips the script and thinks he can say and do anything he wants now that you have your allowance, it feels shitty, and now you have even more on your plate to deal with. It feels nice driving a beautiful new car you worked so hard for, but what happened to your mental health in the 6 months of multiple 12 hour days a week at the office, coupled with late nights and blackouts with the crew to celebrate while trying to achieve that? Sometimes the shit society wants us so badly to strive for isn’t actually anything at all.
I’m not saying don’t do big shit lol, please don’t think that. I’m just saying, sometimes a glow up isn’t always skin deep.
