In the past year, I have been trying to figure out how I got to this stage of my life. To this state of self where I don’t know who I truly am. It’s like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle is in front of me and I have no idea where to begin. With the love and support from my family and very close friends, I carefully pieced some parts together. Truthfully though everything still feels so unstable and very fragile.

I can think of so many reasons of how I am the way I am. I grew up in an environment where perfection is a standard. My siblings and I were meant to be achievers and growing up watching my siblings do so well in school, I was pressured to perform very well too. I always thought, “I will never be part of this family unless I do well in school.” I carried that ideal with me throughout my school years until college when I finally let go of the pressure after graduating with honours. It may sound silly and I guess it’s just part of growing up but to me it was such a strong driving force and a basis of so many of life decisions when I was younger. I don’t think that pressure has left my identity, and I still carry it with me subconsciously.

My siblings and I have the best relationship in the world. They took care of me and supported me in my battle against depression and anxiety. But thinking about it, they too had the same burden as mine, heavier even, so I often wonder why I am so weak with handling it? Why do I have anxiety problems and they don’t? Am I just born to be emotionally and psychologically weak? I don’t know.

These questions and a lot more hang loosely in my head. They have a hold on me when I feel so low and confused, and that’s when I start question my capability to ever finding myself. They make me feel so useless and worthless. So, you see I don’t just suffer from anxiety. Although, I have started to heal from depression since 2019, depression comes and visits when things get so overwhelmingly dark.

My depression, I feel, has started a few years before immigrating to Canada. It wasn’t evident to me then, nor to anyone around me. I would have been the happiest, most positive person you’ll ever meet. Tides changed and it hit me that there must be something wrong when I began having this strong need to free myself from pain and sadness. I knew things will all be better if only I cut myself and I bleed all the hurt out. Where the hurt came from, I don’t remember anymore. I did not hurt myself, though. I was too scared, too weak. I guess it’s my weakness that saved me.

In 2017, after arriving in Canada, I ended a ten year relationship with the person I’ve planned my future with. That decision left me falling flat on my face and I couldn’t get up for months on months. The weight of the pain, confusion, guilt, and disgust I have towards myself wouldn’t let me. I was nothing but a heartless, soulless human in a new country that I have worked so hard for to be in. I lived with my sister and brother, and as much as I was happy to finally be with them, I just wanted to die. One day, I cried as I drove twenty five minutes to work, worked the 6-hour shift, clocked out and cried throughout the drive back home. I crumbled in my sister’s embrace when I got home, I told her I did not want to live anymore.

I hate myself. I see myself as nothing worthy of anyone’s love. I had no purpose. I had no plans. If I did, they were insignificant. When I’m gone, my goals will go with me and the lives of the people that surrounded me will not change, not one bit. A lot of this has changed through the years, but see how I used a present tense for “hate”? Yes, I still do.

Whenever I see photos of myself in the years leading to 2017, I look at her and feel so sad and sorry. I lost that person. I don’t know how to bring her back. I look at her and I just want to give her a warm, tight hug. I’ll tell her what’s coming and I’ll tell her to hold on to her true self as hard as she can through all the confusions of joy and pain, of regret and relief that is coming her way. I will not make her change anything but just gather as much as she can of what makes her, her. I know that if I did I would not be as broken as I am today.

Losing oneself was one thing I know for certain has caused my anxiety, or maybe not being my true self has caused it. Growing up, I’ve followed my sibling’s footsteps. It’s as if almost every single decision I made was not out of my own deliberation, you see, I just followed their paths; and I always had help from them. I think that is why I had so much difficulty picking myself up from where I fell. No one can truly help you except yourself in this kind of situation, I couldn’t rely on anyone else but myself… and truthfully, I did not know how to do that. Maybe I did, but I’ve lost all trust I had towards myself, I literally did not know what to do.

I have one memory that I cherish so much. It was the night before I started my freshmen year in college and my brother drew a map of the university, guiding me on where to go. He explained it in detail so I won’t get lost. He was obviously excited for me too.  I always had help. When I started living in Makati City, I stayed with my sister and she showed me how to survive in this urban jungle. She had a home and she welcomed me there. When I got sick, she paid for my medical bills. She was even the reason why I got a job in a first place, and I loved this job. I always had help. So when I got here in Canada, broken and lost, I did not know what to do, where to go. This time, my siblings cannot help me anymore. It was all on me. But I had nothing left in me.

I’ve gained pace through the four years of living in Canada. I got my LPN license. I have a full time job. I ventured in a business and got promoted in less than a year. I enrolled myself in a post-graduate course that I am really passionate about. Everything seems fine except for nights when my own thoughts drown me and mornings when I just can’t get out of bed. There are still those moments, when I look at myself and the life that I’ve lived and think, “What are you even doing? Don’t you just want to end this?”.

I hope there’s nothing wrong with me. I wish it’s all in my head, that it’s part of grieving the years I thought I knew myself, only to realize I’ve shared my entire being with someone for so long that I feel so lost.

“There’s a misconception that grief only happens when we lose people. This is not true. We can grieve circumstances, relationships, missed opportunities. In fact, sometimes when you find yourself plagued with waves of emotion from sadness to melancholy you may be grieving yourself. The version of yourself that you might have been if things had been different, or if only you had said something, or if someone had stood up for you.” —blooooom.tumblr.com

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn-a4_DAmua/

The part that says “you may be grieving yourself” cuts deep. That’s true sadness there. When you can’t find a home to rest your soul upon you feel everything and nothing all at once. You can’t find your way back because you’re lost, and how will you ever when you’ve lost yourself. How will you ever, when you’ve had none of that self at all?