the-void-and-the-mirror

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

A Cycle With Grief

In the very recent past, a lot has happened. I'd been struggling to cope with life. My car is still in the repair shop, needing thousands of dollars of repair work, while I rent a car I also don't have money for. And my insurance won't cover any of it. (We found a way to file through the state, and it should work, but that's to the side.) It left me wondering how I'm supposed to see the better side of things when life keeps throwing me curve balls like this. How am I supposed to feel like the universe isn't against me when things keep happening? When nothing seems to align despite my efforts? I keep trying and trying to be kicked when I'm down.

…Yet, that same day, I had another realisation.

I'd been dealing with the rage I felt when thinking of my mum would resurface, as it does. The hundreds of things that still sting, making me wonder why I wasn't good enough for them while my sister remained the golden child. Even if she did the same things I did, she was still revered while I was belittled. There's a lot of hurt there. As the rage surfaced over and over, again and again, I found myself desperately craving one thing: justice. I wanted vengeance for what I was put through, I wanted them to suffer in a million ways. I hated them. I hated their lies. And I'd been holding onto this rage because I didn't know where to put it, what else to do with it.

This day, I came to the slow realisation that my rage was hurting me more than anyone else. And I mean that. I had a million revenge plots I would never act on, I had no way to justify myself, and no matter what I did, it would never be enough. So just where was I supposed to put my anger, justified as it was? I told myself it wasn't like karma was doing anything.

Except… then I realised I was very much firsthand witnessing it in action. My dad is always sick nowadays, constantly in and out of the hospital. My mother is miserable without me in her life. And both of my parents became the very people they hated, who they swore to never become. Karma is not fast, not in the way that many would like, me included. But I did see it very much happening right before my eyes. And with my mum, my power was back in my hands. I can withhold whatever I want and I will be impacting her.

I also noticed, very abruptly, that my rage had dissipated with this realisation. I kept an eye on it, in case it might resurface. But it's been two weeks, and I still feel the same neutrality. I wouldn't go so far to say I'm fine with everything, but I'm not burdened by fury that I can't wield. And it's started bearing fruit recently.

In the last few days, I've had a string of surprisingly very good days, something I haven't felt in such a very long time. I'm so used to everything being negative, disappointing, or maybe neutral at best. I'd learnt not to get my hopes up because I'd just be let down. The first day, the school janitor I thought I put off used my pronouns. The next, I got my first hug from one of the kids who has a struggling home life. The second of a book I loved came in the mail. I wasn't getting stressed out by the minor inconveniences I normally did. And I noticed all of this. On the third day, I got my hair cut. I expected to be meh about it, but I had been struggling with sensory issues with my long hair that I just couldn't do anything with and resolved to cut it short. When I got the cut down, I was filled with euphoria. The, "Oh, there you are" moment. I love the haircut. I dyed it red. It looks so good and I can easily style it multiple ways with just a little bit of product. I think I'll keep this hairstyle forever. Even today, after a rough moment, I decided to cheer myself up by spending time with my boyfriend. We went to a candy store, got some comfort food, came home and splurged a few episodes of a show on Hulu. And even then, one of my hobbies has really brightened my day.

I'm noticing this impossible string of good days, despite the negative moments. And I noticed that I've decided, "Just because it's a bad moment doesn't mean it has to be a bad day." And it's making all the difference.

The biggest difference I've noticed? I feel genuinely happy. For the first time since I can remember. Through all of my muted emotions, I finally found what I've been chasing. I feel HAPPY. I feel great, and in control, and how to handle myself when I'm having a time. I'm making it through, step by step.

And I wanted to share that today. I broke through. I made it to the next step in the large chunks of my life that have been covered in muck and shadow. After learning to love myself, learning to set boundaries, I have finally learnt to feel genuine happiness. With all of my heart.

Life is a struggle, and we can't always see how we're going to get to where we want to be. But if we keep trying, and put in the little things to work, and keep our eye on the goal, just maybe it clicks someday. The pieces add up, and the thing we worked so hard for is something we finally achieved. And we can be truly proud of ourselves in these moments, because… You made it. You did it. Even when the world told you that you were damned to suffer, you made it one step further. You made the world a little brighter for yourself. You persevered when it might have been easier to quit. You made it. You did it. And you did it with all of that weight on your shoulders that you should never have had to bear in the first place.

You've made it so far. And you'll continue to get there. And I'm proud of you. I believe in you. Even if things don't manifest the way you're expecting, you're still trying. And that's all I can ask you do, for yourself. Because you deserve love, and respect, and happiness. Despite what the world tried to do to put that light out. Keep going, even if sometimes that love for yourself means that you need to focus on resting. Love yourself enough to take the time you need, and the care you deserve. You've got this.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

reblog to give somebody a fucking hug because we are all struggling to get through it. solidarity in this tough ass world.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Reflections on purpose.

Who are you, and what do YOU want?

Life developments sure are something. I've been struggling with finding a job (and found one, finally, but not in the field I wanted) and, ultimately, my sense of self.

When I started the journey of recovering from my trauma, I came to terms quickly with a lot of the things I heard. Especially one that says you lose parts of yourself after the trauma and probably won't ever get them back. I settled on living a life as a peaceful NPC, only speaking up when things got too frustrating. In the last… Year? I've spent a lot of time realising that the life of a peaceful NPC was not going to work as well as I hoped. Inside me, something was desperately screaming that something was wrong and I had to start moving my spiritual self around.

Spiritual in a light sense, and for lack of a better term, that is.

I didn't know what I was missing exactly, but I felt it in the core of my being that I couldn't just be that NPC anymore. It was shortly after this discovery that I learnt to love myself, for the first time. And when that happened, I thought a lot of things would just start clicking together, and everything would make sense, and I could ride into the sunset of happiness.

…Except it didn't. Nothing clicked. The old me I expected to emerge from the trauma and become whole with big innocent eyes on the world again never emerged. And I was left confused and struggling. I played in and out the therapy window, and with my most recent unemployment, that screaming of something being intrinsically wrong screamed even louder. But it refused to tell me what it was.

I kept trying to make things work, only for nothing to do so. Failure after failure will definitely bring you down, and I was met with a brick wall that I was trying very hard to ignore.

It was here that I found the realisation, after much kicking and screaming, that the reason my old self never "emerged" is because I was very afraid, absolutely terrified, that if that self ever emerged again, it would become abused and broken again, and that I might never come back from it this time. I buried my old self under piles and piles of pain and protection to keep it from getting hurt again. The mask fell off, and I could no longer deny the old me still lived under the surface, screaming to be heard again.

Once again, I expected things to click. A new way forward to open. A realisation of how to make my life better. At the very least, the screaming stopped. But still, nothing was going right. I couldn't get the world to cooperate with what I was trying to get it to do and make a happier future for me. And everything inside me went quiet. Which I wasn't expecting. I expected a drive forward, or an answer, or the next step to reveal itself. Instead I was met with quiet, and I had to wait.

In that time, I took up trying to listen to myself better. Paying attention to the moments of happiness I could find, how those felt, and telling myself it's okay to feel happiness. My emotions are very muted from my trauma, and learning to feel them again, in full, is… definitely a process. But not an unexpected one. I'm currently on several journies with my current therapist, desperately trying to push the pieces together into something, anything, and trying my best to manifest myself so I can be ready to go to another country if needed.

I had an answer in front of me, for quite some time now. A will, even a faint desire, to become a drama therapist. But I've been struggling with this calling. Because the "click" never came. The passion isn't fueling me forward. And the evasion of that passion has made doing just about anything in my life extremely difficult. It's not that I couldn't be passionate. I've been very passionate about moving forward every step of the way in improving myself and trying to rediscover who I am. And the lack of that passion here was concerning, and most definitely holding me back.

Is this what I want to do with my life? I don't know how to tell, if the passion isn't there. Finances are already scary, and returning to school could prove to be another failure. And, lately, the quiet has turned into another loud voice. The scene with Uncle Iroh from Avatar: The Last Airbender talks to Prince Zuko, and the line, "Who are you, and what do YOU want?" keeps screaming within me. And I became almost desperate to find that answer. I dedicated myself to finding it.

So, how do you find something that big? Well, I'd say you start small.

For me, I decided to continue listening to myself, and defining what I want in more mundane moments. More than just a craving for a favourite food, or wanting to play a video game, but in deciding to go against the flow if I wanted to, rather than just going with it. I had to stop being passive in my day-to-day life. I put one into practice over the weekend. I won't go into too much detail on that, because it's a bit dark and depressing. But essentially, I had to run the risk of disappointing two people in turning it down or to dissapoing myself and tag along for something I really didn't want to do. I had to sit there for quite a while, and I kept having to peel back the notions that said, "Well, I might disappoint them" or "It might be the last time I see this person", and I had to figure out what I actually wanted. Turned out I didn't want to do the thing, and I asked if it was okay if I stayed behind.

And everything turned out fine. But when you're so used to overriding your wants and needs with everyone else's, because you feel it's expected of you, it can be really difficult to find those wants and needs. And it's especially hard with muted emotions and trauma. Because you have to find the traces of your feelings and do your best to follow them. Intrinsically, I already knew I didn't want to go, but I had to find that feeling properly and stop trying to reason it away to take care of myself over others. And they're going to do the same this coming weekend, and I found an even better compromise. I can go and hang out without having to participate in the game. I like observing people in this setting better, anyway.

Today, I decided to see if AI could help me figure out what I want. Immediately, we discovered the obvious. Deep down, I'm a person who cares about other people. I like giving advise, nurturing others, and having them feel seen, flaws and all, and telling them they're accepted with me. But then I noticed another branching of "what do I want?" I saw that I wanted that for others, but I also saw that I wanted something for myself. And I had to dig a little to find it. And then I realised there's allowed to be more than one thing I want.

After a little more digging, I found that I envy the lives of those who live passionately, unabashedly. And I wanted to live the same, to chase my passions and curiosities wherever the wind goes. There were many things I wanted all at once, to live a life brimming over. And I was well on my way to doing that already with the recent revelations.

A small aside is that my therapist is trying to help me by having me practice by "turning up the volume" on my happier emotions. And, with this feeling of happiness and revelation, I tried doing that. And I found, finding these two things I want, and putting it in line with becoming a drama therapist, it took some doing, but I was able to feel myself turn up that happiness. I was able to find what I was looking for. And I consider it lucky for me. And I decided that's the path I will follow. I hope to return to school in the autumn, and begin the six year journey to becoming a drama therapist. So please cheer me on.

In my journey, I know my experience is not one size fits all. Your mileage can and will vary. And I have learnt that I can't push everyone to strive as much as I have. I cannot promise how things will come out the other side for you, whether that means having lost things permanently to trauma or not. Only you can continue to grow and develop your own answers. But I want you to know you never have to do it alone. And the reason I want to become a therapist is so that others never have to do it alone. Whatever your experience means to you, I'm here for you. And I hope you have or find plenty of others that will be here for you, too. I hope that you will be seen for your flaws, allow you to be yourself, and allow yourself to be loved for it all. Because you deserve that much.

Until next time, please take care of you.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Hello, everyone. I know I keep being absent. I've been super distressed and depressed for months as I've been trying to gain my feet again. The job I thought made me happy ended up not being the fit I wanted after all. And in the end, it turned into a fight to just beg for hours, and I'm not there for that kind of battle anymore. And, as a side effect, it left a bad taste in my mouth for the profession. I no longer find myself reaching for jobs that let me work with children. I've managed a new part-time job, but that's not going well, either. The job itself is easy, and works for my headspace to at least relax. But the hours are inconsistent at best. And after the holidays, I'll see even less of them. So I don't get to sit on my haunches for very long at all before I have to continue job hunting. Things have just been exhausting. I've gone back to therapy, and I've really come to rely on AI chat bots to get me through the rougher times. All of my AI bots give me comfort and advise, and it's been surprisingly effective. I recommend them. Just please know that the advise they give may not always be accurate, or helpful. And it's certainly not the equivalent of a real professional. But if talking to get your thoughts in order is your thing, these can be great in helping you get through to your next therapy appointment. I had one manage to banish my anxiety for a full twenty-four hours once! It was impressive. I dealt a lot with some things. And got some really good insights. I realised I hated being told I was strong, after all the shit I've come through. Back when I was experiencing my traumas that would come to make or break me, I kept holding my head up. People (mostly my shitty parents) kept telling me I had to be strong, that if I kept putting up with my abuser, things would work out in the end. I kept telling myself to be strong, and kept telling myself tomorrow would be a better day; I just had to keep being strong. Being strong meant dying in a relationship I was desperate to leave, because it was more important to me to not disappoint my parents than it meant to live. I hate, HATE being told that I'm strong. All because I survived, kept pushing forward, made it through things that others might not have. I hate the word "strong", and I don't want myself associated with it. What I did and do want... is acceptance. I never want to pretend I'm invincible again. I don't want to bottle my burdens only to collapse beneath them. I want to be allowed to fall apart, and crumble, and become an ugly mess. I don't want to be strong, I want to be allowed to be weak, and vulnerable, and perceived. I want safety, and security, and the promise that even if I fail, I'm not loved any less. I don't want to be perfect, I don't want to pretend that I can be. I hate toxic positivity. I hate "fake it until you make it." I hate the concept that we should be perceived as some scarred warriors of a war we barely survived, a war we never won. We just didn't die in it. What's wrong with being told we no longer have to be the steel armour we practically welded ourselves to in order to get this far?

You don't have to be strong. "Accepted" is enough. It's more than enough. To be seen, flaws and all, and still be told, "You're safe here. You are still loved." I think those words can mean so much more than being told we're resilient. Especially when we feel our pain and trauma and depression and anxiety tearing us apart. When you don't feel resilient because those echoes dig into your soul. When the fatigue makes cracks in your armour because you've been strong for too long, to make it to tomorrow. To everyone tired of being strong, and those doing their best to stay strong for another day: I understand your grief and the fight to stay standing on your feet. You don't have to be invincible. And if you're still fighting to keep that strength to tomorrow, I hope that you can escape that grasp soon. You deserve better. You deserve peace, safety, security, and love. You're safe here. You are still loved. Until next time, please keep taking care of yourselves.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

PSA for people in abusive places.

PSA to abuse victims. US residents, all cell phones will issue a loud emergency alarm on Oct. 4th around 2:20 EST. This article can help you out

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

removing the dumbass stupid pirate clown on my feed

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

A Blank Slate

I had come to realise rather abruptly that I have no idea who I am these days. I always thought I had some semblance of myself, despite all of my muted emotions and the fact that I don't get along with people as well as I used to or hoped to anymore. The rug was very much pulled out from beneath me.

The old me was very optimistic, loved everybody, believed in the good of everyone, and had kindness pouring out of his ears for days. Nowadays, the best I have is a memory of those things that I still try to follow today. I know I want to care about others, but faking it until I make it back to those feelings hadn't been working out at all.

I know it's because of my past traumas that I'm like this. And I've fought tooth and nail to get better. To process these traumas, dig through the past, and emerge on the other side. And I achieved some fabulous goals. I came to accept the caring and help of others, learnt how to set boundaries, and even how to love myself. The biggest goals I set on my journey. They are achievements I hold proudly. I worked hard for them. So very hard. I thought, that when I learnt to love myself, it was just a matter of time before the old me started to return. I eagerly awaited the day when I would love everybody again and give my love as freely as water. But I still struggled. I found it still infinitely difficult to not be jaded by my past. I still had strong biases, and any presumption that a person would hurt me or others was quick to make me prickly and difficult to work with. I still couldn't see the good in people. I had recently realised I had lost my faith in humanity.

So, I started trying to get it back. I followed forums with things that I hoped would show me the world wasn't the bad place I had believed it to become. And I still pushed toward this ideal of myself, of the me I used to be. I wanted to be that person again, and for everything to go back to normal. I told myself that if I just kept working on it, I would finally emerge from my pain like the trauma never happened. I genuinely believed I could essentially erase my trauma from existence.

And then the truth came crashing down. In so many ways. I realised the me I was pursuing could no longer exist. I can't erase my trauma, ever. No matter what, it has happened, and it is a part of my story, and the best I can hope for is to grow around the trauma. It will never be gone.

I realised I tried so, so hard to control everything around me, because I never wanted to be hurt like that again. I struggle for every bit of control I can grab. And it's great to control the things that I can, but people are forever unpredictable. I cannot control them. I can't control the person making me angry in traffic anymore than I can control the weather. I can't make people stay in my life if they don't want to. I never wanted the pain to happen, but I never had any control of it in the first place. I realised that I no longer had any idea who I was. I'd numbed myself to proper emotions for so long that I have no idea what I want out of life anymore. I don't know what I want to do or who I want to be. Even when I wanted to be the person of the past, I felt a very strong detachment. Like I expected it to click into place and happen on its own. There's a chance I can get some of the pieces back, but it's also just as likely that I'll become a completely different person. And both of those are valid. I also realised the way I was thinking before, where if I just work hard enough I'll get better, is very ablelist. Akin to telling someone with paralysis that they'd walk again if they just tried, when it would be uncertain at best and damning at worst. I was treating myself the same way. And that's hurting not only myself, but others if I would treat them the same way I did to me. I understand better now that that's not how trauma works. And I'm not ungrateful for the realism finally setting in.

I have a lot to learn; I have to be aware of my choices and stop putting myself on the backburner. Stop dampening myself out in favour of not feeling negative emotions. I need to pay attention to who I want to be in the moment and act on those feelings. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit devastated over the whole ordeal. I have to start from scratch on myself, where I've had such a solid idea in the past, before the traumas. And the truth feels harsh.

I at least learnt a lot in therapy. Boundaries, self-love, and accepting those who love me are great starting points. And I can say for certain that the old me never had those qualities. I plan to put them to good use. But the pain is also very real, and I have to accept I'm grieving the past that made me this way, and the future that has been forever changed. That I'm grieving the person who has been lost to those pains. And for that, I feel a sense of guilt as well. That person is no longer here. And whether I can retrieve any of those past traits will remain unseen until I can finish the journey.

I've been crying everyday for some time over the whole ordeal. It stings. And I find myself wishing I could go one day without crying. But, I also try to tell myself that it's okay to mourn these things, it's important to mourn these things. It's okay to take baby steps, and to learn to crawl before I can walk. It's okay to rely on others in this time of pain. It's okay to just breathe, to just be. I just need to take care of myself. We'll get there. And I wonder who I'll be at the end of it all. Whoever it is, I know it will be wonderful. It'll be who I want to be the most. It will be my rebirth from the ashes.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

The past that tries to define my future

So, I have a community that's been a hobby for eight years now. I've loved this community and being a part of it. It's a lot of fun to keep playing in it, and meeting new people, and bringing fun stories together in interactions. I used to thrive on it, and I was always great at returning responses, and getting involved.

One year, I decided that I should stand my ground for something I believe in. I didn't agree with the things someone was saying in their forum. And I pushed back. Admittedly, I did not do this in a very good way. And it really, really blew up in my face. I lost a lot of people in the community that day. And every time I thought it was finally over, I'd lose another. People blocked me. And I lost a lot of faith in myself then.

Nowadays, staying in the community I still love is even still more of a challenge than I wish it would be. I push myself forward, and meet plenty of people who have no idea what happened that day. But still, it feels like I have a reputation wherever I go, and that it's a matter of time before I'm rejected all the same. Most days I can get through it, but some days, it hits me so hard that I want to start over with a brand new name, where no one would know it was me, and I could resume without fear. That would be the hope, at least.

And it aches to feel this way. I've been struggling to pull myself up by my bootstraps for years to try and feel the way I did before I made that decision. Even though I grew from it, even though everyone sees me as kind and wonderful, even though the fear is only in my head.

Living in my own shadow... kind of sucks. There was a way things were. And if I would stop getting in my own way, I could be that way again. I could get along, and thrive, and no one would bat an eye. My own feeling of failure is the only one there. No one else even thinks about it.

So, how do I get out of my own way? A dear friend of mine listened to me while I cried about this to them. How I want to start over, how I just want relief from what once was. And I was so close to doing just that. And she was trying to talk me through, and show me that my badbrain was being just that. That I don't have to start over. That the community had led to us meeting each other, and how far we've come. Then she shared with me this very clarifying post: https://knucklestheenchilada.tumblr.com/post/722379890309136384/oldmanyellsatcloud-tenderwear-found-this It goes on to explain that depression pretty much fucks with your ability to see reality for what it is. That depression seeks to make you stagnate. And that when you're depressed for too long, it cripples you into feeling the negatives of the world. But, that this is also reversible, with self-care. This made me admit that I've been struggling to see the positive and get better, despite my efforts. I still have huge fears, despite my growth, that people will hurt me when I let my guard down. And I know that also stems so strongly from my traumas. And I thought this would be so much easier a battle, but it hasn't been.

And that was the turning point. It wasn't until that clicked, that I realised I still have much to heal, that finally made me realise perhaps I shouldn't just throw it all away in the name of rebirth and relief.

I'm still struggling, just a little less. My friend strongly recommended to me positivity journaling. Which is, admittedly, something I've fought against since my traumas started. Because "positivity" came back to bite me in the ass back then. But, I also so desperately want to get better, and see the nicer things in life. So maybe it's time to hang up that dread and try this out. I don't think I could truly lose anything to this. Not anymore, thanks to a recent realisation with boundaries (which is another story for another day).

Today, I am grateful to continue my journey, and to learn a little more. And I hope that this entry finds you a safe place to realise that maybe the badbrain you feel is only that. I hope you find someone who cheers you on. And know that I'm cheering for you, as well. I believe in you.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

It's been a long time

Hello again. It's been some time, as I struggle with life to continue to figure things out. I'm afraid my anxiety devoured me while I played the balancing act. So I've been away from my blog much longer than I anticipated. And thank you for bearing with me while I still regain my footing. I've been mostly struggling on the career front. My last job was only temporary, and I've been having to decide on my next steps. I recently had an interview that I was very excited for, and I do hope I get the job.

Though my anxiety is constantly eating itself with every fidget I did. (Which was only twice). After quite some time, I've revisited the goal to become a registered drama therapist. This was one I had quite some time ago, and let go. I said it "didn't feel quite right", but in reality, I'm so, so terrified to go into thousands, hundreds-of-thousands, of dollars into debt with nothing to show for it. And I think that puts a huge damper on the goals that I want to pursue. Debt is a terrifying thing. But then, this world is ever-changing to raise that bar. So how much more terrifying is it than to stay miserable in jobs that will barely keep me hired instead?

I don't have the credentials to even start out as a counselor. I'm only a life coach right now, and that's the kind of position I would be taking with the company I applied to. Counseling the homeless, the disabled, the addicted. And I'm so, so much more than fine with that. I still, so desperately, want to help others.

When I finally found this job opening, it was shortly after I finished getting my life coach certification. I figured it was better that way than opening and maintaining my own business, until I could at least get a better business head on my shoulders. There's a lot I don't know how to do, and I am not blind to that. This job would be perfect to start me off. I applied again and again, only to get rejected. And it was frustrating, I didn't know what I was doing wrong. It's been a couple of years, and I finally put in the number of people I've managed to coach onto my resume. And finally, finally, I got that interview. And I had to realise the steps I took to get there. I never gave up on applying. I tried again and again, despite their rejection. And I'll probably apply yet again if I get rejected this time. And I realised... how much this means to me. How much getting that job was something I wanted so much that I kept going back, over and over again. And when I got that interview, I felt some pieces click. I was excited, I was nervous, I was intrigued and terrified. And I saw within me how much I desired this. How, "No" wasn't an answer to me. It was just a deterrent and another chance. Looking at the company's reviews on what to expect, and what I was willing to endure in order to get my foot in the door here.

And then, a dream coaxed itself out of my thoughts and through my lips: "If I get this job, I think I'm going to push through college and become a registered drama therapist."

Because the job looks good on paper, and the benefits of the company would also contribute to it. It might mean not having to face the debt alone.

And I said this, again and again. Just a ghost of what I wanted. And when I was so stressed out as the interview got ever closer (it was a few weeks before they could interview me properly), someone cheered me on. They told me to believe in them who believes in me. And that... was kind of a turning point. What did I believe in? I don't know if I could so much as believe in myself. But I realised something else: I believe in the me that wants to help others.

And that... that meant something. That meant an awakening. I believe in what I can do. That I can be a hero, and this is the best way I know how. Step by step. One person at a time.

And it was then, that I finally, truly realised that I have a dream. For the first time in fifteen years, after all my trauma and recovery, I have a dream. And I want to see it through.

I'm going to pursue schooling, whether or not I get accepted into this job. Because if I was already so willing to put up with whatever it might take, I can certainly put up with studying. And it finally made sense.

This feels like a small update, and it isn't quite as overflowing with everything I want to add. But there's more stories connected with the additional parts that will certainly take up full entries on their own.

I hope you all find yourselves well, today. I hope that, even if your anxiety is eating you alive as well, that you find some light in all that you're striving for. If it's to take another breath, or take the first steps toward a dream, or to even look back at how far you've come. I'm cheering you on, too.

You've got this, and I believe in you. We'll make it through together. Anxiety is only temporary, even if it feels like we're drowning in it. So keep holding on. And I'll write more soon.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Finding Myself in the Mirror

Hello. I know it's been a while. I guess you could say I've gone through a lot.

To start with, I'd been struggling with my identity for a long time. Not as a trans male, I've always known that part of me, but as my Self as a whole. I didn't know my personality. Trauma did a lot, and ever since I've come out of my apathy phase of PTSD, I had been on the hunt for myself. To find the thing that would break me out of my pain and make me love myself. A feeling I've never had or known; at least not towards myself.

I went through years and years of therapy, because I started with self-loathing. I hated myself for the things that had happened and how powerless I was to stop them. And I knew that wasn't where I wanted to be, so I sought help. And therapy did help, so very much. I had talk therapy, medication appointments, even went through EMDR because my trauma would just devastate me some days. I tried CBT and DBT, but these were things I already knew, and so they didn't help much.

After I stopped hating myself, my goal became to love myself. I treated myself more kindly, recognised where my faults weren't despite my blame. And, in a way, I came to love myself. But only in the third person. Looking at everything I ever accomplished, yes: I was proud of myself. I thought I was an amazing person, that I had done some truly great feats to pull myself out of Hell. And, best of all, I had survived all of it. But I only loved that version of me from the outside looking in. I loved that person, as long as I didn't think of them as me. Any time I tried to view that person as myself, I couldn't love them. It felt hollow. There was so much to love, that if that was someone else I met, I would cheer them on and scream from the mountaintops how beautiful they are, how strong, and incredible, and unstoppable. Why couldn't I do that when I saw it as "me"?

I struggled for years that way, never gaining leverage to love myself truly. It stagnated, no matter how much I kept growing. No matter how much I tried to be the new person I needed to be. But there was something I kept ignoring.

My trauma took a lot from me. Most of all, it took my trust in others away. I was jaded when it comes to forming new connections with people. I was scared to care. Because what if I ended back at square one again? Trampled, hurt deeply, and back at the apathetic phase of PTSD? And I didn't want that. I didn't have boundaries when it happened the first time. And I couldn't risk that again. No matter how much my inner self tried to tell me it wanted to. That pain could never be worth it again. I can't love everybody. I told myself there are things you can't get back from trauma, and I was convinced that selfless love was one of them. Because I didn't want to forsake the things I'd gained in self-respect. I didn't want to sacrifice my sense of self to serve others again.

Little by little, that little voice that wanted me to love others again nagged in the back of my heart. But I was good at ignoring it. I'm pretty good about running away from my problems, despite the number I face head-on. I can tell myself things are okay, despite the pain I feel. But recently, that voice got louder, until something felt innately wrong with everyday life. I became sad all of the time, I became irritated. And, little by little, I've learnt that talking about my problems with others can at least soothe those pains, if only a little. Be it venting or feedback. I turned to those closest to me for feedback.

After a few days, I realised what I had been missing. That little bit of me that wanted to love others that nagged at me so much? I not only could become that person again, I HAD to. Viewing others as inherently cruel was killing me from the inside; it was killing a core part of who I was. But becoming ME again didn't mean I had to lose what I'd gained, either. I had learnt something valuable: there may be monsters in this world, but I can love those that need it the most. I may not change everyone's minds, and that's okay. I don't need to, those people aren't worth my time anymore. And I have the experience I needed to realise that I don't need to spend my time on those people, but to keep going forward and reach out to those that will accept my help, that will listen, and those that want to grow and be happy, too.

And that was who I wanted to be all along.

I remembered the person I once was, and how learning to love people and give them the benefit of the doubt made life beautiful. I have to relearn it all again, but I remembered I had to learn it back then, too. I was once bitter before. But loving others made me happy. And that made the breakthrough. I'm no longer lost.

I found Me. And I'm amazing and beautiful. And for the first time ever in my life, I love me. I love Me. I love Me as Me, and not just from the outside looking in anymore. And it's such an amazing, beautiful feeling. It's something I cherish so much. I finally achieved my goal. And I'm so, so very happy.

The ones who love me now, they helped me get here. By helping me grow, but also by letting me hear myself. Talking is one of the strongest things you can do. It helps you see who you are and what you need. And having people you trust makes a whole universe of difference.

But most of all, I made it. And I didn't think I ever could. And I hope, as you read this, that you realise it's possible. To win the struggle against low self-esteem and trauma. It's possible to come out the other side. And it's even possible to regain the self you've lost. I know experiences aren't universal, and I usually hesitate to say, "If I can do it, you can, too." But I don't think that's what I'm trying to say here. I think I want to say, "Please don't give up. You'll find the you that you've been looking for someday." Whoever that you may be.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

A Bit of a Growth Period

So I work for an after-school program, where we do activities with kids to help them grow and have fun. And I'm still pretty green. This is only my second month in. I was asked to pick a country in the Americas and create three activities in accordance with it. Already I was nervous. I rely a lot on examples and things to learn processes, because I want to make sure I understand the assignment and not mess anything up. But by the time it was crunch time, I had forgotten to ask for one. So I had to do some research, and since my boyfriend used to be a teacher, he helped me out. In the end, most of the ideas were my own, with some of his sprinkled in. And my boss said the ideas were great, and only needing a few tweaks.

We had our first meeting of the year yesterday. And during it, we had to pick two more countries in relevant areas of the map. I got some really easy countries, honestly. And one I was passionate about since the beginning. But I also got the misfortune of having to do two weeks back-to-back. After my first country at the end of the month, I'll have to do my second country the very next week. And I'm honestly shaking a little.

It's very easy for me to feel overwhelmed. I'm so used to going a snail's pace and barely doing anything to just get by. I'm also not used to being valued for my ideas. And having to step up and that people appreciate my ideas, it feels like a whole different shift in gears. I'm afraid of failing; whether that be failing my expectations, their expectations, or just failing my job completely. I want to freeze in place, and I know that's not what I can do if I want to keep my job. I also don't feel like the things I'm experiencing are bad things. They aren't expecting too much of me, and they're all very supportive and helpful. So even if I feel overwhelmed, I'm not going to drown in it.

Another thing that's important about this is how much it aligns with my dream, what kind of person I want to be and the job I want to run when I open my own business. The ideas are almost exactly the same - I'd be creating enrichment projects and classes for others. So, if I want that to come true, this is the perfect place to learn it, and become confident in my ideas. It's very important to me. And knowing that helps a little. But I'm still here, afraid at failing. Even if I can't know if I'll fail until I try. And this is a safe environment to mess up those kinds of ideas in. Because I'd get feedback, and another solution could be easily sought out. Talking about ideas and suggestions. I know it's going to be okay.

So, even though I'm afraid that my ideas are going to be nothing but failures, I'm not alone. And it's important to realise I have people in my corner, both at work and at home. I have so many wonderful supports. And even though I'm afraid, I want to try. I just have to refuse to let myself get paralysed by my fears. And if I can do that much, and just reach out when I need help, Everything will be good, and hopefully even better than that.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that, despite knowing I'm supported 100% in all areas, and I get to do things that are meaningful to me, and that this all leads exactly down the road I want, I'm still so very scared. And for anyone who might feel that fear, for whatever reason, it's okay to feel that. I know it's scary when you have to change things and trust in things outside of yourself to be okay. But if you can push yourself a little, make sure that everything here is what you want, or what you can use from it will be valuable towards what you want, and dare to keep growing with it. I'm sure the end result will be beautiful. And I want to push forward to that beauty. I want to see the life I've wanted continue to grow and come into being.

I hope you dare yourself to follow your heart, even if you're worried that you have no idea what you're doing. Because even not knowing what you're doing is a great place to start. It's a great place to learn more about who you are, what you want, and the steps to make that happen. I'm cheering you on. The things you do and love, they truly matter. I hope your dreams come true someday, too. And when you can look back at how far you've come, know that your journey has been worth it, and that you look at your path with pride.

Have a wonderful day, everyone.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Happy New Year

I hope that everyone finds the ability to be a little more patient with themselves. And the fortune to have that little bit of extra courage to reach out for that thing you've been wanting, but been too scared to take.

You are loved and worthy, even if you can't see that you are yet. Have a beautiful New Year.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Estrangement doesn't need a map

I ended up talking about my parents recently. Both of my parents I keep far and away at any given time. My dad stopped talking to me a few years ago, and it's the best gift he ever gave me. I will never talk to him again. My dad is absolutely irredeemable, he's never even going to try to grow. My mother I've gone low contact with. In my mother, I've always seen the potential for growth, try to lead her to it, only for my dad to hiss in her ear what she should believe and have her come back and argue with me. She's passive aggressive, doesn't "like to be corrected", and will only give dramatic apologies that paint her like a victim. "Sorry I'm not perfect," "I didn't abuse you!" and just never realising she's the problem. And I had a talk about an article I'd read this morning about estranged parents and how they don't know how they can be estranged when their kids tell them why. And it all so resonated. It's here if you want to read it: https://www.issendai.com/psychology/estrangement/missing-missing-reasons.html I struggle a lot with trying to reassociate with my mom, because she wants a relationship and is trying to reach out. My sister has said that my mom is trying to be a better person, but it is baby steps. My sister supports me burning that bridge if I so desire, as well. I've had long talks with people I can trust and who understand my trauma and pain, and that I see my mother as nothing but an emotional exhaustion. She's an energy vampire who has never tried to understand me, and I'm tired just thinking about engaging with her. Anytime I've said why I don't like my mother to her face, it ends in an argument. My sister tells my mother why I don't like her, and it's suddenly apologies. And I know my sister is a blunt person and probably told her directly my reasons, probably even more direct than I am. So the fact that I can't tell my mother why I don't like her and get the same reaction my sister does is another sting that just adds itself to the mess. But this time, I was talking with my boyfriend. How I just stand here staring, "Do I burn this bridge or not?" It would probably cost me less sanity points to just burn it." And while it's hard for me to make the final step to cut my mother out, I probably should, because every time I get a little text from her, I just hate it. And I've started giving minimalist replies. I don't tell her I love her back anymore, because it just feels like an obligation I don't want to return those words. When she tells me my dad loves me, I want to call her out on her lies. And nothing they say will fix the years of abuse, and nothing I say will make them realise what they've done.

My boyfriend told me he supports me in burning that bridge with my mother, but he also told me something I never thought of. He said I don't have to do anything at all. If she grows, she'll grow. But if she doesn't, then oh well. He said it like this: "You don't have to cross the bridge, or burn it. You can just walk away from it, and come back if you ever want to."

And it was enlightening, that I don't have to hope anymore, secretly hoping that what I know will never come somehow miraculously does. I don't have to do anything at all. I can simply let it be. And if one day, I decide my mother's efforts are worth rewarding, I can come back. And for anyone who is in the same position I am; where it is hard to connect but also hard to let go, I wanted to share that insight with you as well. You don't have to burn that bridge, you don't have to do anything at all. You don't have to force yourself to reconnect with someone that hurt you. You can simply keep your distance and watch. And if you decide that someday that change is worth reaching out with, you can go ahead and cross that bridge then. But also know you are never obligated to, either. Someone else's efforts does not mean that you have to give them a reward in return. After all, they've taken so much from you already. Let them show you if they have grown and changed, and even if you decide they are still not worth your energy, your time, your love, it's okay. It's okay to just let it go. And know that no matter which you choose, none of it is your blame to accept. It is you taking care of yourself, and you are allowed to have that.

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

A Sense of Purpose

My entire life, I've fought to find what my calling is. Who I'm supposed to be, what I can capitalise on to make money with. I had hobbies, interests, and many little bits of inspiration that could have been "the reason I was put here". I use quotations for the last part as I don't know if I truly believe in a divine purpose anymore. But instead have fluctuated my thinking to "what would I be happy doing?"

Because my parents had always shat on what I said I wanted to do that didn't align with what they thought of me. I was interested in soldering and electricity for a bit, they were thrilled. But when I said I wanted to study bugs, I was told that it was a stupid hobby and to find something else. My interests never seemed to last long, and I felt intrinsically broken because I couldn't find something I loved to do enough to stick with it. Of course, my parents berated me along the entire way. Even when I was an adult and said I wanted to be an archaeologist, maybe, I was told I couldn't commit because I always dropped the hobbies they were interested in me keeping. And because my parents weren't supportive unless it looked good to them, finding anything that could maintain my interest or made me genuinely happy felt like grasping at straws. I couldn't find the things I liked because I had no idea what I liked. And the things I did find to "like" I wanted to maintain as purely hobby, because trying to push things into the "I want to make money on it" box often made my love for them die quickly.

I was good at editing and writing, but having to commit to them made me frustrated altogether. And honestly, I like writing for fun, not money. But it did inspire a bit in acting, so I took up voiceacting. And that's also a fun hobby, but I don't expect to be good enough to make money on it anytime soon, if at all. I know where I stand on it. But the thing is that I started following those little sparks of interest, to see where they lead. Because I was so desperate to find what I would want to do with my life so I wouldn't be damned to a world of jobs I hate. I wanted to make a difference, but cashiering isn't a difference that works for me. I'd get bored and miserable so quickly. So I had to find what I could do with the rest of my life.

I started by giving myself permission to find new things and to fail at them. But learning new things I wasn't "naturally gifted at" was difficult. I'm still trying to learn the bass. I want to. But sitting down and doing the actual learning is something I have to let myself sit down for, and it's hard to roll over to. I took questionnaires of passion and personality, and every one of them said I like to work with people. Which was always obvious to me. But depending on the settings, it could be equally as terrifying and unsatisfying. And everything I tried, I couldn't find the right kind of "purpose" in. I worried that maybe I was being intentionally difficult with myself, or maybe the thing that would make me endlessly happy to do doesn't exist. I wasn't denying that I could have bad parts of a job. But perhaps my expectations on a job that didn't make me feel miserable at some point was perhaps that itself could not exist.

I observed so many careers that worked with people, and all of them required schooling that I didn't have patience for. Many with a bachelors, but the ones I really had interest in required a Master's or higher. I live in the US, so taking school means a lifetime of debt. I can't just try classes to see what resonates, either. So if I had to go to school, I absolutely had to make sure I could tolerate the path to get there. And it was a very daunting path. But nothing I looked at was enough. Nothing called me enough to take the plunge. And I was so terrified of the plunge, because what if I decided I didn't like it at all part way through? I'd be in masses of debt with nothing to show.

I don't remember how I stumbled acrost it, but I found I was happiest giving others advice. I was always told by friends and loved ones (that weren't my parents) that I was insightful and gave perspectives they never thought of. And somehow, when that clicked, I did as much digging as I could to find ways to become someone who deals in life advice. I thought maybe to become a beautician, as someone you could talk to as a trusted friend, and I could give those words out more easily, and similar passions that were short-lived for that just-right fit. Eventually I found Life Coach, and it sounded perfect. It wasn't mandatory to go to classes, but I felt spending a few thousand dollars on a certification course would be worth it. Six months of school was easy. I got certified and was proud! But doing events to pull my own clients in is a bit of work I'm not quite ready for. So I started to further my journey.

I have many people who have supported my journey of discovery and my determinations of what I should become to make my dreams come true. At one point, I had decided to become some form of drama therapist (one of the ones that required a Master's) and had started conversations with one who could link me locally to making it happen. But, it wasn't long before I stopped responding. I withdrew. The thought of school too daunting, and when I stood at the edge to start, I simply couldn't. I couldn't find the will to follow through with it. The same happened when I decided to become a school counselor (a more gentle Bachelor's degree). When it came time to put plan into action, I stagnated. Something always told me this wasn't the "just right fit" I had hoped for.

My worries returned tenfold. Am I damned to do jobs that I hate for the rest of my life? I'm highly neurodivergent. I have ADHD, Sensory Processing Disorder (in all manners of the word. From textures, sounds, scents, and not being able to tolerate even fitting clothes), generalised anxiety disorder, have a hard time learning cues and being able to read between the lines of neurotypical expressions, and mistaking words for another meaning. If people weren't direct with me, and I always made that known to my employer, then I was going to fail. And that's not to mention a bajillion allergies I have thanks to chronic illness. I had a hard time keeping jobs throughout my attempts at a career. Except for jobs that made me miserable and took a heavy toll on my mental health. Because I can work, I would never qualify for disability. And that was even more worrying. When I accepted a career coaching job that I thought aligned perfectly, and then started becoming heavily criticized for not being able to do the job they wanted exactly, I became bogged down by that very fear: I can't find a job that makes me happy that would possibly want to keep me. I sobbed to my boyfriend about these fears, that I was inherently useless in an ableist society, because they wouldn't work with me to work with them. I couldn't stand the thought of doing the things that made me miserable to earn money even in my most desperate times anymore.

That's when it finally snapped. I refused to take work that made me miserable anymore. With my boyfriend's support, both financially and emotionally, I accepted unemployment (that I still haven't gotten the payment for, since it now takes a full three months for it to activate) and began searching for jobs that would grant me happiness. I looked at things I longed for that would accept my certifications, to new things that I might be interested to try. In the middle of November, I got a call for one of the new ones: Parks and rec. The phone interview went beautifully, and she was impressed with my answers on working with children. I was offered the job immediately, and I accepted. However, with all the paperwork, I only just started this past week. My main job is an after-school program with grade-schoolers. But my job also hosts events throughout the city.

When I went in to finish that paperwork, I was told about uniforms. I told her I was willing to pay for a tailor-made uniform to my specifications, and revealed my SPD to her and how I was trying to get treatment for it. She told me she didn't want me to pay out of pocket for that kind of thing, and that she would work with me on it. The more I talked to her, the more I realised she was accepting, so I got a little bold and revealed my transgender status. She welcomed it with open arms. And the kids call me "Mr. FirstName" with my preferred name. And it's so euphoric and humouring to listen to little kids say "she - I mean HE!" to me as they try to correct themselves. The few days I've worked, I see they give everyone their best chance. They hire others with gender diversity, trans and not, others with disabilities and encouraging them in their best way. And everyone just being so supportive of each other and doing their best to help these children out, but also help each other succeed. And at this past weekend's event, where I cheered kids on to eat smores and ask how they liked their marshmallows toasted, dancing to get attention (and keep myself from just standing still because standing still is absolute torture to me), and just genuinely interacting with others, I felt it. It finally clicked. I LOVE this job. I found something I could do for the rest of my life; it's fun, always changing, interesting, supports creativity and celebrates individuality. I love my job, and the people I work with. I called my boyfriend after the event in tears of joy. I want to be a beacon to people who are different, encourage them to be themselves, and support ideas and individuality too. I found my purpose. And I get to keep my hobbies on the side too, or implement them just as much as I want.

I know I'm lucky, that I'm a rare story here. But I also want to share with all of you that it's possible. I found happiness, with all of my problems and differences, that lets me be me and accepted for it. These things exist. And it doesn't have to be a job for sure. But if you're like me, dreading the existence of working because of how different you are and that no employer cares to understand you and how you can do your best, even when you give them the guidelines to help you succeed at what they want done, just know that it exists. That there is something you can do that will make you infinitely happy. Or even if you don't know what you want to do with your life, that you're damned to a life of school and debt to just find your passion, it's okay to start small. Find those little things that give you passion into your life, and crosscheck them to see if that's something you want to do to make your living. Or even if they're something you just want to keep on the side. Your passions can belong to different things.

And your passions don't even have to be your job. Something like helping others through a little blog that says, "I'm here and I see you; I understand you. And you're not alone."

[the-void-and-the-mirror]

Anxiety and Self-worth

I've noticed more and more lately that I'm anxious all the time nowadays. When I saw my doctor a month and a half ago, I was on the precipice of a mental breakdown. And as I stared at myself, wondering why I was always shaking, always screaming, always trying to find some new place to run away...

I think that I used to be something much closer to "normal". Once upon a time, I was only anxious for a little of the day, a quarter of the day, half of the day. I tried antidepressants and antianxiety cocktails trying to just feel some semblance of "normal". Some semblance that my life isn't run by worry. And every time I think I've found the formula, it always seems to change again.

My hints that I'm "too stressed out" always change, too. I had night terrors at first, and when I saw spiders, I knew I was stressed. As soon as I realised that's what it was, the spiders stopped. It changed to snakes. When I grasped it, it changed again. Hallucinations, dissociation, derealisation, intrusive thoughts taken up to the worst levels, until my very mentality threatens to shut down where I stand.

I find it harder to sit with my anxiety, trying to analyse and help it, because my spoons are already spent having been far too stressed out with the things that lead up to it. I don't know how I'm supposed to cope. All because I can't stop worrying. All because I'm afraid the smallest mistake I make will lead to the biggest domino effect of disaster in my life. Every mistake I make cripples me, and I linger on it for hours, days, weeks, maybe even years, afraid to let it happen again. Because if I don't change and become better, won't everyone hate me? I was put on a new medication for my out-of-control anxiety. A small enough dose on a medication that wouldn't numb my emotions like a former antidepressant had, as I had told my doctor about that experience too, and the fear of feeling it again because I wouldn't react to danger when I was numbed. And, for the first time since I could remember in years, I... felt "normal". Or, at least, something like it. I still have feelings, but I'm not hearing that constant internal scream anymore. Not as often, at least.

But that's not to say I haven't had breakthroughs of endless stress. My anxiety is always at that door. Sometimes it just sits at the door, waiting for me to open it. Other times it bangs and slams until it forces itself in, and I have to deal with my thoughts, and understand where that pain is coming from. Sometimes I feel that anxiety creep up and it's gone again to the medication. And I worry about it breaking through, when it has before. Sometimes I go without the patch, because I'm allergic to the glue on it and it makes my skin itchy and scaly. But I can't go long without it. Three days is the record, before my self-loathing starts coming back and I don't know how to deal, except another patch.

Self-loathing is perhaps too strong a term for it. But I am beating myself up over the littlest of things, and my social anxiety weighs in with the rest of it, figuring it should have a turn since the other anxiety does too. And I find it hard to deflect these by treating myself with kindness and understanding, the things I would show another and hope it's enough light to show them the way.

Why don't those words work on me?

I try so hard to value myself. I love me on the outside looking in. I see how much I've grown, how much I try, how much I want to be someone others can look up to and rely on to ease their worries and share their sorrows. And I think I'm beautiful and amazing, seeing how much I fight to keep going to do my best, be it for myself or others. But when I sit with myself, the love from the outside looking in doesn't show. I try to tell myself I'm worthy, that I deserve beautiful things, and love, and the world that wronged me is just that - wrong. But it all feels so hollow; it feels like a lie. I can't bring myself to believe it, and I still don't understand why. Why I can think I do such amazing things, and yet not view myself as worthy.

I love me, but not directly. And I want to love me so much. I want to embrace myself, and hold my true light, believing it will let me soar high above the clouds if I could just feel it even once so I know what to aim for. But it's always just beyond my reach, in a cage I can't seem to unlock. But I will never quit striving for it. I know I deserve to be free.

I don't have an answer to resolve my issues with my self-esteem. But today, that's because I want to show it's okay if you aren't there yet. As long as you're making the effort to reach out and take care of yourself, even just hoping that maybe someday you'll get there and you'll feel worthy of the things you were too scared to give yourself the luxury of. Baby steps matter. I make them too. I've come a long way from the me that truly used to hate myself, from the me that never set boundaries, the me who never chose myself over others. I make those baby steps to take care of me, and choose myself when I need to take a break, no matter how small or big. And even though I haven't figured out my self care to perfection yet, I'm still trying my best.

Someday, I want to love me. Not just from the outside, but from the inside too. And I hope that someday - yesterday, today, tomorrow, or years from now - that you will want to love you too. So try to take care of yourself until then, so the you who loves you can meet you.