A Piece of Me to You

"And then there's light. It just takes time"

Everyone talks about how depression holds them back. It's a cloud of darkness, and we all shine our magnifying glasses to try to dissect it all

It's not a lie, though, that it's difficult. Depression is no joke, but there's always a good side to anything.

I'm the first to tell you that I'm what some people might call damaged goods, because I've had some problems. I can't ever say they're in the past however accurate that feels. They're pieces of me, and I'm willing to share them.

I guess you could say that it's hard to do that. It almost feels like I'm tainting the now, right? That's not the case, though...

Let me start by sharing what these illnesses are.

I was a teenager, and I felt that way for about half a decade...

The list is as follows:

• Depression
• Anxiety
• Schizophrenia
• PTSD
• Bulimia
• Anorexia
• Body Dysmorphia
• Insomnia
• OCD

I can keep going. I want you to understand that it isn't my fault. It isn't your fault if you have any of it, either.

I took this course once that told me how a difficult pregnancy often led to the child suffering of most of those problems... some of the often also overlap with each other. I know my mom had an awfully difficult pregnancy with me, and that's always where it's thrown to... but hey this is life. It could be it or not. The case stands as sometimes we're dealt shitty cards. We just have to do the best we can with them.

Anyways, that isn't the point of this. The point of this isn't to get pity either. I'm not brain dead, so until then... save that pity party. The point is simple... In spite of anything I've been diagnosed with, I'm stronger than ever. 

That's the thing. The journey itself was hard and is always ongoing, but no matter how hard it feels... the end is there. The end of the tunnel with the light is there. You have to make the hole. You have to break through that wall. You have to walk through that light. You have to want it. Then you have to go through with it.

You could get to know me inside out and have no clue that those were draining problems that plagued me at one point.

The thing is they did drain me... There were days I wanted to just die. I'd sit in a corner feeling the weight of it all like my clothes were soaked in water with a suffocating weight on my body. Nights were my sanctuary that fell into the routine of music.

I guess it all tied in recently, you see. I found a recording that wasn't meant for my ears. I found it beautiful, but it came from a time I didn't know. It came from a darkness I didn't see. At the moment I was too interested in the content to really understand or see it.

It wasn't until I stood at a gas station pumping gas that I seemed to connect the dots.

My problems aren't the demons I've drowned. They're the demons I've embraced that can no longer control me. I'm better for overcoming it all, and they help me understand others who suffer under their claws. The thing to understand is that I am not damaged goods, and you aren't either. We've lived in a way that adventures don't measure up to. We've evolved in a way that a pile of years still can't compare. It's an ongoing journey, and that is what keeps you sympathetic.

THAT was the click. There are things that are sacred to me. There are things that got me through a lot which would never touch my fingertips again, no less be shared. Then who am I to forget that? Who am I to deny someone else that safety?

No one.
I'm no one to do that. That's where my guilt kicks in. I didn't understand. I know words weren't spoken in that moment about the importance of it, but I want to believe I knew better. I guess I do blame myself for it and not the other party. That's the truth, because I should have known better.

I'm an open book to an extent. I'm not an open book in the scribbles of melodies or in the walls of a recording studio, though. Music has always been that safety blanket, and it helped me get out of a dark hole. There are parts of it that I've continuously revisited throughout my life in those dark times that I felt alone.

I haven't shared this with anyone, but I feel it's only fair to rip a piece of my flesh for what I've done.

Last summer I got really sick regarding my voice, and that had to be the hardest time. Not only was I going through the process of my grandpa dying, but I was losing my voice. I'm that person who refuses to go to doctors, by the way. I'll go if I'm forced to by my body, but I tend to just go through the motions.

This was different. I went to the doctor and nothing helped. Nothing... I remember looking at the city lights with Bryant and crying last December. That was it. I told him I couldn't sing. I didn't want to be part of the band, because the more I tried to sing the less I could talk. I'm terrified of coughs now. It feels like I have a fire in me. I can't hit those notes. I can't. I guess that's why I was taken aback by that recording. It took me back to the little light in a dark hole that I knew I won't get back. It's not defeating, but it's bittersweet.

Bryant told me I'd be fine last year. He said I could still sing. We'd figure it out and reteach me if we needed to. I don't think anyone understood, though, and I didn't try to explain. Sure, I could learn a different way, but no one understood it literally hurt. It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe. The less I sang, the better it felt.

It felt like trickery. I was being told I couldn't do the one thing that had always brought me comfort.

The one thing that felt like that life vest was being ripped off my body.
Dramatic. I know.

I think I accepted it, too quickly, even if it felt like my voice was being stolen.

It didn't feel like giving up, either. It was a hobby, I loved it, but it held too much baggage. I wanted a fresh start. I still found my voice in lyrics. I guess I'm just talking about it now, though.

I had told Bryant it stayed between us. He wouldn't tell Ty or Andy. He wouldn't tell Jessica or anyone. Anyone.

Besides, we were all slowly going our own ways.

So back to this turbulent post.

I think at a younger age things felt like life and death. I look back and see that those things weren't big deals. I look at now and know that my big deals will one day be little ones. That's life.

I also recognize I'm alright. Things get shaken up, and you sometimes revisit a little bit of something left behind, but as long as you don't stay there... you're fine.

We're all human.
We all hurt.
We all bleed red.

And guess what? None of us are perfect. We have demons. We have pasts.

I think my big fear is when life comes, will we push those we love away?

I know I won't. I might see the motions, but I'll pull at the end of the day. I never want to be pushed away like this, especially when I recognize the process.

I'm sure some of you expected me to tell you what everything is like, and maybe I will at some point, but that isn't today.

It's just hard. You're a rat. You sit in rooms full of adults with forms of PhD's trying to figure you out like a puzzle. You're no longer the person but a number. It gets dark. You decide what you show, though. You decide when you want it to be over.

I will say this, medication is a chemical fix, but the overall fix lies within yourself.

People become accustomed to the pattern of being in the funk. They temporarily rise to only give in at the first sign of trouble. You learn to get stronger. You learn that this is something only you can do for yourself. It's crazy, but you get through it.

You just sit there and remember death is not the answer. A permanent fix to a temporary problem is not the solution.

When you try to kill yourself, you regret it. You regret it when you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs. It all looks like fire and your mind jumps from memory to memory. You want to stop and then it's all dark.

Every hole you fall into during the process makes you stronger. Every outlet you lose reminds you that it's okay, because you have yourself. You are your worst enemy and greatest ally.

I can keep going, but I just want to say that I get you. There's plenty of people that get you. Everything will be better. You'll get through it however big the load, and you'll feel human, too.

You won't be in this fog forever.

Anyways, if you haven't heard it yet, I love you. One day you'll love yourself, too. It's okay that you are how you are as a result of what you've been through, but it won't be forever. You are good. YOU ARE GOOD.

Xx

Maintaining A Voice

Being a couple doesn't mean you mold into one jumbo human.

Even if you're a couple, you are still two separate people.

This post isn't meant to rip apart relationships, though. I mean I'm in one. I guess I've just learned a few things lately. It's not anything new, but it's been applied...

It's easy to give your all to someone you love, you know. I mean it isn't always easy, but it comes naturally. What I'm saying is that sometimes we find ourselves spiraling in a string of actions that feel strange to us... We give someone something we may not have known we could or were willing to... but it happens. What now? 

Stay calm. It's not the red flag to your relationship unless it is.

Don't worry... in this case it's a happy ending. 

So suddenly you're exposing yourself--your darkness--to someone in a way that's painful but somehow easy... You give someone more than you ever were willing to, and that's okay. You do that out of love, but the important part is to look at yourself during that process.

Look at yourself and question if you've lost your voice or if this is a transitional point in life where you share this and give this much to this person out of love...

I can sit here and tell you that it's been rocky lately. I've been tested in ways that I didn't think I would be, but I've come out of it all stronger.

At one point I sat in my rental and cried. I cried about everything. I cried about an event not knowing then I was crying about my situation. I felt myself get rocked, and I questioned it all. I recently also saw someone dear get rocked and question a lot as well...

Anyways, I questioned my voice. I'm glad to say that I can look at my relationship and know that I have a voice. I can get scared, but I'm not silenced. He's always willing to listen and, more importantly, attack the problem with the right solution.

That's important, because I know I can communicate with my significant other. I haven't given up who I am to please this person. I've grown with them, and I think a lot of people confuse the two.

I look at it and feel lifted... I can't wrap my head around the fact that I've built little routines with someone, either. 

Not in this way that unless you're a part of you might not understand the peace coming from the act itself.

Anyone could look at it as ridiculous. You talk on the phone not accomplishing anything? 

That's not the case. It's a nice routine. Our relationship has incorparated itself into a day from sunrise to sundown and everything else. He does his thing walking around all cutely, because he doesn't want to make noise at home. I tend to split my attention and soak in the comfort of hearing his voice, about his day, telling him how this and that happened. His excitement with his work day is always welcomed.

You text that much?

I can't imagine not wanting to communicate with him. The past few days we've been shorter with each other, and it's made me appreciate his little messages more. I smile at his updates. My heart swells at his love infused texts. I know he can't always be at my beckoning, and we acknowledge the honeymoon phase ending, but it hasn't taken the love with it. I still send him rambly texts, and he still loves them.

You keep his voicemails?

They're stories. I don't keep them all, but the ones that show me something have stuck around. It's the messages with the almost palpable desperation to communicate with me on some level that make me dizzy in a sweet way. It's the way I hear his frustration... I can tell you what happened that day. I hear the way we've grown separately and together in his messages.

I can go on... but the point is that despite of how ridiculously in love you may all see me act... there's a voice there. I'm still Laura. He's someone who scares me in the same way that he can ease me, but I know he wouldn't abuse it. He wouldn't abuse how rocking this love is and the lengths I would go for him. He wouldn't abuse the voice he has and I listen to just as I wouldn't abuse my voice or how he listens to me.

I'm able to let him open doors within me that I've held shut for years. 

Basically, he's in this process of turning me inside out. He's seen the ugly inside and the process of it...

Even then... we're a couple. He loves me with him and on my own. He's not clipping my wings or transforming me into someone unknown. That's important. I'm comfortable and HAPPY with him, and I don't feel silenced or ignored. Sometimes I say too much and probably pain him, but I don't ever feel the need to lighten the load. Is that bad? Not if you know what I mean. I'm honest with him and tell him what he needs to hear even if it isn't what he wants to hear. I think of his well being before his want to hear me. 

I don't find myself adjusting my words or truth... He's not someone I feel I have to be different for to be loved by... if THAT makes sense.

My words aren't meant to cut him, but they are meant for him and his wellbeing. 

I love him in an unconditional way. It's a forgiving love. It's patient. It's timeless. It's growing. It's flexible. 

It's afraid, sometimes, and even jumps to conclusions but takes the risk to communicate and ease the wrinkles along the way.

It's domestic in the way that I find peace just laying beside him... His presence alone is enough. 

Having met him has changed my life, and I don't want him to ever forget it...

But I would never lose my identity to him, and that's important for anyone. 

The person you love should not take your identity away

You shouldn't try to take someone's identity

It's that simple...

You're probably wondering how any of this correlates with having a voice or anything really. It does, though. I promise.

Being in a relationship requires compromise, and sometimes one party compromises more... it happens. There will be times that happens, and it needs to be done for the right reasons. You're the judge of that bit, though...

That's why you need to have a voice. You can't melt into one. It's good to be an unbreakable force, but you need your individuality. A person has two separate legs that work together. They don't mold into one... They stay two separate legs but become a great pair. lol

You need to come out and communicate to maintain a relationship. I've always been a strong believer that in order to fully be in a healthy relationship, you need to fully embrace yourself first.

Maintaining a voice is maintaining individuality. You can't be an individual if you haven't allowed yourself that pleasure. 

My advice is to enjoy single life. There's no rush to fall in love or have someone. What for? They won't add to your value. A MAN/WOMAN does NOT... I repeat does NOT give you value. YOU are valuable. YOU matter. YOU on your OWN are already important.

Don't look to life as lacking when you're on your own. Enjoy yourself. Embrace yourself. Never look to yourself as requiring a faceless individual to be whole.

You will meet someone and it could be amazing, but it will fall apart if you can't be yourself. Being in a relationship is level 2 of being single--single life is level 1. You learn things in level 1 that are required for level 2.

In other words, being single will give you a voice and teach you what you'll need to know to maintain it.

Don't sacrifice who you are for anyone. Growth in a relationship is very different from sacrificing yourself. Know the difference.

Loving someone is never wanting to silence them.

Xx