An Update. Processing. Learning. Changing.

Sometimes you wake up at 0200 in the morning for no reason at all, and lay in bed trying to fall back asleep, but to no avail.
So you get up.

Which brings me to here.
Alone, awake in the early hours of the morning, and thoughts racing around in my head.
Nothing at all out of the ordinary, to be honest.

A lot of change has happened in my life in the past couple of months.
I moved hundreds of miles away from where I was last located.  I have a new job title (but still within the same company).  I have my first ever, real life adult one-bedroom apartment that I can call my own, and I don't have to share it with a single damn person, which makes coming home a relief and not something to dread...major introvert, anyone? :P  But even more so, that means I have a place that can be a safe haven for friends, a place where I can show people hospitality through love and homemade food (and tea).

Even so, even with all these changes, I still stare at myself in the mirror and inside my head, I wonder if I even know what the fuck I'm doing with my life.  Because sure, maybe on the outside to anyone looking in, it seems as if I'm a normal, functioning adult who has got my shit together, but to me?  I marvel at the fact that I'm even able to function at all.

Who would've thought, right?

Don't get me wrong, I know this is how it is for every 20 or 30-something adult.  Everyone thinks that everyone else but them knows what they're doing.  That somehow on a certain age, you receive a card in the mail for your birthday with instructions on "how to adult" properly.  That you're the only one playing pretend on how to be a functioning adult, when it's like a second nature for all the people around you.

False.

A lot of adults in their younger years still question a lot what the hell they're doing.  Wondering if they're making the right decisions, if they're actually adulting properly, questioning if it will ever feel "normal" to them.  I have it on good authority from people who have been adults for a lot longer than I, that it does become a normal thing.  As natural as breathing air.  So that's comforting, to a degree.


I don't feel like I've changed.  And that's not in the sense of "I'm a whole different person, who was I five years ago??" but more so in the sense of, I still feel like I'm who I was at, say...21; except, several years have passed since then, so the only true change that has occurred is that I've aged.  Though I guess that's not true.

I have had people in my life remind me, point out to me, that I have changed.  And have grown.  And that it shows.  Which I suppose it does, even if it doesn't feel like it.  But hey, feelings can't always be trusted, so why am I going by that anyway?

Maybe I should just reflect, and list things to remind myself of the growth that has taken place.

I moved away from home.  A place in which I resided for 20+ years; I had an opportunity offered to me by a family member, and I took it.  Which was a rescue, of sorts, because home (the general location, not the actual building) had become a toxic environment.  It was wearing on my mental health, and was a negative impact, not a positive one.  So having that escape was a good thing.

A couple months after moving, I finally got a job (it was a long search).  So I began working, which meant income, which meant I could finally pay to go to therapy.  And I started doing so.

Therapy...something I had wanted to start for years, but the black hole in which my hometown resides, resources were extremely limited, and that wasn't really an option there.  But it was after I moved.  And it was good.

A few months after that, I began taking anti-depressants.  Again, something I had wanted to start for a couple of years, but lack of good healthcare and healthcare professionals who actually listen to their patients, it wasn't something that ever happened for me.  But being in a new location, meant that I had a better opportunity to be heard.  And I was.

I met someone.  A wonderful, good man, with the biggest, kindest heart of any man that I have met, who has chosen to love me and stick by my side through thick and thin.  I have been in a committed relationship for over a year now, and that relationship has a long future ahead of it.  Me...someone who was afraid of commitment, of being tied down, of giving my heart away and being vulnerable with someone... But I found someone who is worthy of my heart, and who deserves my openness and vulnerability.

I began to live on my own and support myself.  Well, not "on my own" if we're going to be technical.  I was renting a room from a married couple.  But I was still paying rent every month, paying bills, buying my own food, going to the gym, working two jobs...I was being an adult.  Or more of what people expect an average adult to look like, I guess.

I began to get better.  Not just with my physical health, but mental as well.  I found a safe space to go to every week to talk about my problems, to process, to grieve, to understand myself and how I fit into this world.  How I fit into my own world.  I was able to discuss how I was in love with someone for years without admitting that I was in love with them.  And through talking about it and processing it and finding someone who chose me for being me, I was able to let all of that go.  To heal and be free from it and move on.

I have learned and I have grown and I have lost and I have loved and while life is still bitter at times, the sweetness is that much more tasteful and prevalent.


I don't know if I would have grown or learned as much as I have without the help of therapy.  Or even being in a relationship for that matter.  Life happens in different stages, and as each stage occurs, maturity and growth usually take place with it as well.  You get into a relationship.  You learn how to function as a unit, and not as an individual with another individual (though still remaining individuals yourselves).  You marry; you learn to live and function when two lives become intertwined in an intimate way.  You have children; you learn to be selfless and how to raise little humans to be good and honest and kind, and you discover just how much of an influence and example you are to those around you.

I have learned a lot from being with someone.  Not just in general, but a lot about myself and who I am and how I function...and discovering even more ways of how messed up I am.  Which isn't a bad thing, per se.  Just more so my eyes being opened to a wider vision of things that I need to work on regarding myself.  And, again, going to therapy helped immensely.  I don't know if I would have gotten through what I experienced if I didn't have that safe space to go to every week.

There are so many things that I could list about what I've discovered about myself from being with him.  Some of them hard lessons; hard, but necessary.  Necessary to grow, to change, to mature.  To not only learn how to be with someone, but perhaps even more important, learn how I function.  And by learning how I function, I can learn to understand myself, and thus communicate that with him, so that he can understand me, too.

I think there are hard truths everyone has to face about themselves when they decide to commit to another individual.  Of course, you can always turn a blind eye to these things, but that is 1) on you, and 2) a very immature, selfish thing to do.  Don't get me wrong, I'm no paragon of what it looks like to be in a relationship.  But I know enough to know that if you aren't willing to acknowledge the ugly side of you that appears in a relationship, than you have no business being in a relationship at all.  That means that you aren't willing enough to change to become a better version of yourself for that person.  That you're selfish and you want them to change and fix their lives to form around you, while you just stay where you are, thinking that the rest of the world has to catch up with you.  Because, obviously, you know everything, and you're just waiting for everyone else to catch up.

Wrong.

I think I knew before I was in a relationship that I was a selfish person.  But since being in a relationship, I have realised just how selfish I am.  How self-involved I can get, and forget so easily that my words and actions can affect someone else.  How so often I worry about me, me, me, and fail to think of the other person involved in this relationship. What their worries are.  How I can meet their needs and their wants and desires.

I have not solved this issue, by any means.  I remember so often just how selfish I am.  And how I don't deserve the patience and kindness and willingness to take care of me that is shown by my better half.  For how often I get caught up in my own mind and worry about things I have to take care of, he is right beside me, putting off things that he shouldn't be, simply because he sees my needs as more important than his.  I come first, he comes second.  He has lost out on a lot because of me.  And those sacrifices seem like nothing to him, because of just how much he loves me.

He loves me so well. 

I never used to have the set mentality of thinking that I, a person who struggles with depression, was unworthy of love; but I will admit that if I thought about it, sometimes it seemed as if I would never find a person who was willing to put up with all my bullshit of stupidity and mental health issues because a depressed person is not worth putting up with.  Which was kind of more solidly confirmed by a person I was seeing before I moved.  As they so kindly put it, they "couldn't be committed to someone who wasn't committed to taking care of themselves."

Because of course, one day, I woke up, and decided that I wanted to be depressed.  That I wanted to struggle to get out of bed, to care about anything in my life, to have the consistent, lingering thought in the back of my head that maybe death is better than life.  Yes.  I definitely chose that path.  And yes, I let myself go.  Why commit to taking care of myself and wake up and get dressed and have a daily routine and go to work and function in society and visit medical "professionals" over and over again to try to figure out what was wrong with me but without any help or true effort from them?  Yeah, what a dumb idea.  I wasn't about to do that.

(That was sarcastic, in case you couldn't tell.)

But then he came along.  He knew from the start - because I told him - that I had my own demons to fight.  My own baggage to carry.  He knew, and yet he stayed.  He told me he wanted to see me get better.  He wanted to help me get better. 

What?

That was so foreign for me to hear.  Someone wanted to help me get better?  Not just stand idly by and wait for me to get better?  Someone barely knew me and yet already cared for me a lot?  Someone listened to me talk about my issues and wasn't scared away by them?  Someone saw who I was, and was willing to be with me for exactly who that was?

(Honestly, it's something I'm still trying to wrap my mind around.)

And he has stuck around.  As he is so good at reminding me, he's not going anywhere.  He is with me, he is not leaving, I am not alone.

He has been more of an example to me of unconditional love, than almost anyone else in my life.  (Family doesn't count, they're kind of obligated by contract of blood.)  In the moments when I've been cruel and harsh, he stays.  In the times of grieving and sorrow, he mourns with me.  In the times of unbearable sadness and struggling to function in any capacity, he holds me and dulls the pain of life. 

He has been so patient and kind and loving.  He cares for me, and he takes care of me.  He has seen me at my worst, and still chooses me.  He has seen me at my best, and he rejoices for the good day.

He knows exactly who I am - flaws (and there are so many of them) and all, and he still loves me.
He still loves me.

I have no idea how I managed to capture his attention or his love, but somehow I have.  And every day I think about it, and I can't believe how much of a blessing, of a good thing, he has been in my life.  He has helped me heal, he has helped me grow, he has helped me understand me more than I ever have.

He is a good man.


I know that I am not in the least bit close to being perfect.  To achieving the knowledge of everything there is to know about life and how to handle all the blows it deals.  I know that I still have miles and miles to go of growing and learning and changing and maturing.  Which is good.  It means that I am moving forward and not remaining where I am.  That I am going to new places, not staying stale and stagnant and rotting away in "perfection."

Change is hard.  It's always been a difficult thing for me to handle.  Regardless, I still face it.  I still let it happen (as if I had a choice anyway).  I still know that it's good for me, even if I don't like it.  Like a child who hates eating vegetables.  Ha.

But I know change can bring about amazing things.  It has shown me that I can provide for myself and handle being on my own.  It has shown me that in spite of my baggage and the cloud of sadness that looms over my head every day, that I am worthy of being loved.  It has shown me that there is a lot of me that I need to understand and fix, but that I am not broken.


I have grown.  I am growing.  I am learning, I am changing, I am maturing.  Leastways, I hope I am.  I think the fact that I can look back and see some changes is a good thing.  Even more so, having important people in my life, speak into my life, and remind me how far I have come, has been helpful and encouraging.

I am, I think, excited for what is to come.  I have no idea what this next season will look like,  I have no idea how long some struggles will go on, but I know that we - not I, but we - will come out stronger on the other side.

And in the midst of it all?
God is still good.
He will provide.
And not only our relationship with each other, but also with Him, will continue to strengthen.


It's going to be good.