We all have problems.
Every one of us is so very different, no one will ever be able to know what exactly is going on inside your head. However, it's important to remember that most everyone struggles. Most everyone has something they're battling. And that thing you're going through that feels impossible to battle and entirely inexplicable? Someone's gone through it too. Someone's felling it too.
The first time I went through a rough period of my life was a challenge. I didn't know that what I was feeling wasn't normal, I didn't know that things could change, and most importantly, I didn't know if I could get better.
I didn't tell many people that I was struggling until I had my healing underway, but there were a select few people that I trusted to help me through. One night, my friend was driving me down a dark road after taking me for ice cream. It had been two weeks since I opened up to him that I had been struggling, and that I had decided to find a way to get better. That night I learned something I never would've known by looking at him; he used to have some of the same problems I did.
Hearing that someone close to you has once been in a lot of pain is not easy because although that pain is not still there, all you want to do is hug them until they forget it all. But sadness for his past struggles was not the only thing I felt when he opened up to me. I felt safety, comfort.
Having someone be able to understand things that you yourself still don't understand yet, it takes away some of the emptiness and fear that's inside, replaces it with the reminder that you are not alone.
You are not alone.
As we kept talking, we both kept coming more and more out of our shells until I just started crying. It's hard being so honest with someone, but it's even harder being so honest with yourself. He turned down the music and looked at me and asked what was wrong.
I didn't know what to say. I told him I was scared. Well of course I was scared. I was facing a new chapter of life without knowing what to expect after retreating into a home of darkness for years. But how was I supposed to explain that? So I told him the truth. Yes I was scared, and I didn't know if I wanted to get better.
He didn't have to ask why I was so unsure. He already knew. When you spend so long with a version of yourself that consumes every second of your life, that drains the light out of the sky, that loses feeling when too much feeling tries to be felt, you forget. You forget what normal is. You forget who "okay you" is, without all the weight and baggage. How do you try and become normal again when you don't know what that is?
As I've gotten older, my path away from that me hasn't been easy. She comes back, even when you swear she won't. Eventually I found who normal me was again. I love her. I love how much she loves life. But as I grow and change and face new struggles, I lost her again, and I am back facing the same challenge as before.
How do I get better when I don't remember who better me is?
I can promise, it is just as hard as the first time. But there are a few things I know now that I didn't. I know that people will be there if you let them. I know that the path isn't a straight line. I know that it's okay to not know what to do. I know that there is not really a normal me. There's just every version of me inside, sometimes more one than the other.
If you are healing but don't know how to figure out when you succeeded, remember that success is less of becoming you again and more of finding you again. It's hard to heal when you don't remember what whole feels like, but it's worth the journey.
