Anyone home?

Why have I been away? Me sef no know

The past few months have been more of a struggle than a pleasure. My mental health took a tumble, and I followed it down. Sleep became my refuge, even though it offered little solace. It felt like I simply blinked away the days. Honestly, disappearing after my last post wasn't intentional. I simply... forgot. I forgot I had a newsletter. I forgot I had a community waiting for my words. This morning, the realization hit me like a cold wave: months had passed without a single update.

I've always wielded my emotions like paintbrushes, crafting something beautiful from the raw canvas of my experiences. But this time, I was lost in a fog of confusion and despair. A world where my pain couldn't be transformed into something tangible felt alien and unsettling. And that, unfortunately, is where I've been.

I've been feeling overwhelmed and lost lately. It's like a mix of emptiness (50%), sadness (30%), and a sense of being disconnected from myself (10%). The remaining 5% is just a tangle of confusing emotions I can't quite grasp.

Maybe this explains why I cry when things don't feel right or why I get sick when I doubt myself. Perhaps I've been in denial about just how much stress I'm carrying. I tried to convince myself for so long that I was just tired; in my defence, I really was tired, though that wasn’t the only reason I felt down. My life had gotten busier than I could manage, and I was constantly running behind schedule and sleep. Every day, I woke up, went to school, did some work, had a few meetings, then the world put a blanket over my eyes, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

For a reason, I hadn't wanted to name the gnawing feeling within me. My schedule, already overflowing, couldn't accommodate the emotional storm that a label might unleash. Researching symptoms and solutions felt like a bottomless pit, a luxury I couldn't afford. So, I buried it. Instead, I sought refuge in a mountain of productivity hacks, devouring every video on managing tiredness I could find. Pomodoro technique, timeboxing, you name it. I absorbed them all in a desperate attempt to reclaim control. But beneath the surface, a different truth lurked. My relentless drive, fueled by necessity, had squeezed the joy out of even the things I once loved. "Stress," I finally admitted, was a more fitting term for the pressure that had become my constant companion.

A chilling realization crept over me one day: I was slowly fading away from life itself. My mind, once a vibrant force, had detached from my consciousness, hovering like a ghost above the priorities that used to consume me. I felt numb, devoid of the energy to nurture my friendships. Social interactions became a monumental effort, leaving me isolated and drowning in missed opportunities. My physical health, too, mirrored the inner turmoil. Exhaustion gnawed at me, and tears welled up at the slightest provocation. My mind, a cruel saboteur, whispered that life was a relentless grind, unworthy of investment. Unwanted, unworthy, and utterly miserable—those were the cold, hard facts.

It wasn’t my first time experiencing this type of darkness, but it was the first time I felt completely and utterly helpless.

What did I do? Nothing. For the longest time, I just did nothing, but eventually, I did something. I became self-aware. Being self-aware is much more effective than people think. The feeling of knowing what is wrong with you, how you feel about yourself, and being at peace with yourself? It’s one of the best remedies for whatever feeling (at least most). I feel a lot more in control of my life. I’m not just going with the flow; in fact, I’m the flow. I plan on being more self-aware, appreciating myself more, and, most importantly, being at peace with myself in 2024.

I want you guys to know that, despite the drama, 2023 has been a good year. From the time I stopped writing until now, everything has been good.

PS: I’m fine o; this letter isn’t a cry for help or whatever. I just felt like ranting. See you soon!