A year ago I broke up with my girlfriend of three years. I moved out. I ran away from who we had become, from the terrible emotional mess I had become. Terrible start for a tumblr post, I know, but bear with me for a while, if you have a bit of time. If you don’t, it’s okay too.
So, a year ago.
I was doing freelance at the time, working weird hours, balancing between long periods of paralysing self-doubt and forced overwork to make sure I’d deliver on contract work. I had been hiding anxiety crises for a while, never telling her or my friends about it, except maybe when it was painfully obvious - then I’d just say I was just a bit tired, that it was very rare. I was ashamed of not being okay, so I hid myself away from everyone, therefore I became even worse, so I had to crawl even further in my metaphorical hiding hole. I became distant to my girlfriend at the time, so she got frustrated and became distant, so I got frustrated at her and became even more distant. I probably made no sense, constantly switching between looking for attention/love and hiding from attention/love. I was a mess, and I never talked about it clearly. I never really asked for help, because my problems were a big knot of unimportant problems and unexplainable anxiety.
So anyway, we broke up, I moved out, I moved on.
Now a year later, I started over. I’m with a wonderful girl, an amazing, lovely, caring girl. She’s had a concretely tough year, but we took care of each other as best we could. I got the best job ever, working with super talented friends on a super inspiring project. I’m confident in my art, somehow, and it’s weird. In the past year, I’ve been myself more than ever. My life is full of positives, and it’s great.
I’m broke because I didn’t do much work during the “crisis” and poorly managed my money. I still have a few anxiety attacks here and there. I stress out about work, have moments of jealousy, get struck by impostor syndrome. I avoid sleep to not have to deal with some of my thoughts. My mother is on leave because she’s not feeling great, and it terrifies me. I’m not in good physical shape, I eat too much and don’t work out often enough. I’m afraid my emotional weakness will scare my fantastic girlfriend away. So, still kind of a mess?
Feels weird to say those things out loud and in this case to write them so clearly. I’m not okay, but I’m sort of okay with it? Now the hard part - I hope YOU are okay with it. I’m not asking for support, at least not in the “transfering some of my weight to you” sense. I hope we can all be okay with not being okay, together, by listening to each other. Sympathizing, loving, hugging, high fiving, congratulating each other. Make it okay to not be okay by saying it out loud, by smiling at how fucked up we all are, by laughing at how we have no idea what we’re doing.
tl;dr - It’s okay to not be okay but it’d be cool if we, all together, were okay with not being okay
I am most connected with this text about “not be okay”, but for other reasons.