Journal Entry 7/17/22

I’m sitting in the backyard of my Airbnb in Portland. It feels like a celebration of all the hard work I have been doing this past year. I don’t really mean the labor-intensive type of hard, but hard as in stretching myself beyond what is comfortable and familiar to me. About a year and half ago I felt my first prolonged bout of depression. I had the thought a few years before those months that I could never be depressed, wasn’t in me. There was so much in my life to be grateful for, intensely loving relationship, great friends, wonderful family, finally working as a therapist, cozy apartment, access to food… etc. etc. You know, the list we rehearse to shame ourselves when we feel anything but grateful. All these amazing parts of my life especially proved why I was fucked, because I had everything I could hope for, yet I was still at the lowest. I don’t blame myself or anyone else who gets in these weird, icky thought spirals, because that is what society has taught me to think, especially as a female. Be grateful for what you have. Don’t be greedy; other people have it worse. It could be worse. All these messages are bullshit to keep people (especially marginalized groups) complacent, stuck, self-loathing, and disillusioned. 

I didn’t heal myself this past year and a half; it wasn’t me who was the problem. The problem was all the messages I had been taught about who to be, what to think, and how to act. My “healing” isn’t putting the broken pieces of me back together; it’s actually opening the door for my whole self, in all her glory, to come forward. I have always been whole and will always be whole, and I believe that about every other human. We think we are broken because the messages and beliefs we have learned distort our vision to only see the parts of ourselves that are convenient for the systems we live in. I feel a jolt of magic inside of me when I think about the power we can have together when we start believing it isn’t us who is broken, asking for exactly what we need, rejecting everything that doesn’t feel right, and creating spaces and conversations for our whole, true selves to come out. 

I feel more settled in my body today, because I am actually trying to step into myself and not a version I think others want to see. I can say no. I can quit. I can create even when there’s no monetary value. I can just be without doing. I can put my needs first. I can feel my safety in the moment without needing to predict catastrophe. I can allow myself to be emotional, even angry. I can let others be emotional, even angry. I can surrender my perceived control. I can be in the moment without rehearsing the past or future. I can allow others to sit with their consequences without trying to step in and clean up their mess (sort of, not easy for me). I can let others do, be, and feel whatever they choose to do, be, or feel (again, sort of, work in progress). I know I can do all of these things. Even if I don’t follow through and sometimes forget, I can, at least, see it’s an option on the table. That’s the thing, options. I am able to see when I choose the move to let my true Self act or the character playing me act. And I know the charades don’t lead to good places. Choosing my true Self leads to freedom.

When I am with a client in my job as a therapist, I have had the tendency to see them in the way I am trying to see myself. I can usually separate their true Self from the other stuff. I wonder what life would be like if I did that with everyone, if we all did. If we saw our partners, parents, bosses, children, neighbors, as totally whole, but also struggling to let that whole person out or even struggling to know she’s there. I guess that’s pretty much love. When our true Selves see another true Self, the result is always love; I am convinced. And when that deep love is there, we can allow the imperfections, mistakes, hurts, and difficulties come and go because we know, like know know, the true Self we are all trying to let out the door.