february wrapped: hurting + healing
Do I run towards or away from myself? A delve into the cult of comparison and the crushing weight of feeling lost.
Author's Note: This is not the special feature that I referenced before, that will be coming in March. Stay Tuned! ;)
Songs to listen to while reading:
Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey, Linger - The Cranberries, Silver Soul - Beach House
To be honest, February was kind of a really bad month for me.
It seems like even though the days went by fast (it is the shortest month after all), the moments and minutes dragged on and on. I was working on a few things for this project while trying to balance school, family issues, friends, social life, and all the other mundane moments that come with that.
I was in a slump. The healthy habits that I began to establish in January slowly started to slip away, as well as the feeling of control. The spiralling cycle of anxiety commenced again, and there I was, looking out at a violent hurricane, with childhood me right in the centre of it all.
She had tears in her eyes, begging me to do something, anything to save her. But what? What can I do for her when I felt so lost? All my life I wanted to please and make others content with the work I produced, my actions, and my being, just for any form of validation. I wanted to feel like I was worth something in this world, but what do I do when I could not even please myself?
Hours were spent staring at the ceiling, regressing into the mess I was when things started to get bad again (more on that later), letting myself rot in bed until the sheer panic of all the tasks I needed to complete consumed me, or until I was so hungry and thirsty that I couldn’t think of anything else.
There were a lot of things on my plate, but somehow, at the same time, it was empty.
The combination of my worst fears, who I was becoming, and what parts of me I was leaving behind cumulated into a week where everything was not just crashing down, but had already collapsed and was there for me to clean up.
I had written a sort of journal entry where I chronicled negative emotions into categories, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong with me. The writing slowly blossomed into a calm, where there was a realization that sunshine was fighting its way through the dark cloud cover that I was surrounded by. I was going to post that entry before this one, but part of me does not feel ready yet to share it, and as I said in a former blog post, I want to respect all reader’s boundaries when it comes to topics that are sensitive.
With that said, I did share that entry with a few close friends, who reminded me that although I felt so lonely, they were there if I ever needed to talk. Thank you, kind friends. I was so scared of being a burden to them after years of being a mediator child in the family that the fear of sharing or oversharing made me guilt-trip myself into thinking that the stuff that I was going through was minuscule and irrelevant compared to everyone else’s.
After reading that, one friend told me I needed a hug, which was very true. I had isolated myself from the world for half of February that I felt like a withering, dying plant. I told them I was going to a beach on my university campus, to “go insane”, which might have been a stretch, but I did need to escape. They wanted to come with, which was a welcome opportunity for us to catch up and talk. It was kind of funny, because they had mentioned to me that they went to the same beach when feeling the feelings I was, and I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that as a human, I was open to feeling these emotions, with no toxic positive response.
The friend, let’s refer to them as J, walked all the way down what felt like a gazillion stairs to the beach with me, and we sat on a log overlooking the ocean while high-speed winds whipped our hair into our faces. For some reason, we had chosen the gloomiest day to go down to the beach, but it was refreshing because it looked exactly like the emotions consuming me. The heavy, blue-gray sky looked like it would let torrential rain down at any minute, but it held out for us. A silver lining at the horizon was a very faint coral gold, and reminded me of how good in the world can still exist when everything seems absolutely terrible.
We ate snacks and contemplated life together on that log. Eventually, we forced ourselves to scream at/into the ocean, in some kind of weird, abstract form of release therapy.
The conversation went something like this:
J: What do you want to scream?
R: I don’t know, I was just going to scream a regular scream. (slight confusion)
J: How about the word…p*nis.
R: I am not screaming p*nis out loud.
J: Come on, no one can hear us and no one is basically here.
*a few people arrive just at that moment*
R: *stares at J with disbelief, bewilderment, and absurdity*
J: See, people are walking away, now is our chance.
R: No. I told you I am not screaming p*nis.
J: *yells p*nis out loud, not that loud, but clear as day for me*
R: (visible frustration/embarrassment/nervous laughter) Can we just normally scream, please?
J: Fine. But you actually have to do it.
After a bit more banter and failed persuasion, we did it and high-fived.
Everything that I was holding in for the past 3 weeks came out in a garbled, guttural scream similar to the one that Mitski lets out at the end of “Drunk Walk Home.”
For the first time in my life, I felt liberated, and I finally held nothing back.
Sorry to the few random couples and people on the beach, and just to let you know, we are completely fine.
Here is J’s contribution to all this:
Recently, I watched a YouTube video where creator Micarah Tewers goes through heartbreak while making a dress.
Now you might think, what in the world does a semi-satirical Youtuber’s clothing tutorial have to do with this?
Near the end of the video (7:40 - end), Micarah includes in her voice-over this little line:
“comparison is the thief of joy, and gratefulness is our best weapon against that thief”
I had to rewatch that part because I was still processing what that really meant. Over the reading break, I was constantly comparing myself over and over and over again. Whether that be with people on social media, friends, or family members, there was envy toward them that did not exist before. It is really hard to admit this, as it might make me look like a horrible person, but I am trying to be completely honest and transparent here.
The fear of missing out, or FOMO has devoured society, and no matter how much we achieve, think we succeeded in doing, or are proud of, there is always something bigger, better, and more exciting. The intersection of inspiration, consuming, inventing and re-inventing, plagues creators, which is all of us, whether public or private, we constantly produce.
Leah’s Fieldnotes video on this:
This is one of the reasons why I purged my Instagram following, as comparisons began to trickle in again. It is difficult, as we want to “follow” people that encourage and inspire us, and at the same time, the fight to be “original” echoes in the back of our minds. Every time, I felt a sense of guilt pressing the unfollow button, as if I was retracting the support that I unintentionally pledged and placed on myself when I first started following them.
The commonality of influencers grabbing our attention with the use of algorithms and sponsorships has given birth to a sort of anti-influencer movement, perpetuated by paradoxical messages in the form of nicely wrapped TikTok and Instagram reels. Am I a de-influencer or an influencer? Hopefully neither. The fact that I am chronically online does not help either, which is why for March, I’m forcing myself to delete Instagram for a month.
See Alaïa Soars’ essay on this:
As social creatures, I believe the desire to establish connections is rooted deep within us, and when the thought of differentiating those connections as genuine and real or not can be a precarious thought to have. I’ve been called naive for trying to see the best in people and give them the benefit of the doubt because that is not how the “real” world is.
Tell me, what is the real world?
I agree with not wanting to suppress my skill set and becoming a doormat to others, and that brings about the ethical question: are people inherently bad or good (ex: serial killers vs. saints)? I won’t get into that in this post, maybe another time.
On Sunday, I listened to the entirety of “Preacher’s Daughter” (possible album review coming later, although not guaranteed) the newest album off Ethel Cain’s discography. It made my skin crawl (in a good way), with its themes of religion, dangerous attraction, and Americana, drawing parallels to Lana Del Rey.
I don’t know why I like albums where all the songs bleed together in a sort of rhythmic, soothing pulse, an attraction to an esoteric, dreamy narrative perpetuated with haunting vocals. Maybe the subversiveness of the songs makes perfect writing music, or because some part of me unconsciously needs to be simulated, but not overstimulated. By the end of the album, I was slowly healing. A spiritual epiphany some could say.
With the next month just around the corner, the need for self-care and the urge to care for others, as well as the maintenance of interpersonal relationships is something I want to continue implementing.
Finally, here is a list of things I am leaving behind in February and some that I am taking with me in March.
Leaving Behind:
being over-influenced by social media
beating myself up due to comparison
toxic individuals
detrimental late nights
caffeine addiction
spending money that I don’t have
placing worth on receiving validation
dating apps (so time-consuming, tiring, and just not for me)
being down bad for any slight inkling of attention
letting advice or criticism overrule decision making
equating intelligence to productivity
men (just kidding, or am I)?
Taking with Me:
no makeup days
self-realization and actualization when it comes to emotions and feelings
healthy habits + motivational tools
taking myself on solo dates
not being afraid of love and all the messy things that come with it
watering my plants regularly
going to the gym more
soup for lunch
the tender embrace of friends
treating myself when I need to
upholding a simple routine (skincare, academics, you name it)
spicing things up with spontaneity
documenting my day (photos of the quotidian, mundane, fun little things)
changing my sheets more often (I know, gross)
recognizing the amazing functions my body does and being grateful for it
Thank you for reading my luvs! <3
See you in March!
Xoxo,
Rach