In this essay, I will find my way back to myself.
or something like that.
In this essay, I will find my way back to myself. If you think I have a plan, you’re wrong. If you think I thought about this for one second before typing these words, you’re wrong again. I am actually writing this essay because of a recent blog post giving ideas for essays from
and in it he wrote:“Write a failed essay. Take the phrasing, “In this essay, I will—” and try to run with it right into a brick wall. You keep trying, failing, and trying again. See how far you can take it. “In this essay, I will end grief.” Give yourself an impossible task and write your way into and through your failure.”.
I figured… What’s a more impossible task?
I think it best to start with how I lost myself in the first place. That’s the curious thing about existing in these skin suits, isn’t it? We go through the motions of every day, present (at our best), we speak to our loved ones, we go to work, we obscure our responsibilities or we do great at fulfilling them or somewhere in between; then at the end of each day we decide whether we had a good one or a bad one. How can it be possible to lose yourself when you are experiencing every single day? Oh, and I don’t have the answers by the way. I journal. I go to therapy monthly, sometimes twice. I check in with my partner daily, I nourish my body, I go for walks. And somewhere along the way I have lost. My. Self. Completely. 2024 was a flurry of strong emotions and what feels like an entire year of my life that slipped right past me. It feels like I did so much and simultaneously achieved no forward movement last year. I lost interest in my job, I lost interest in writing, I guess I can say I lost interest in creating in general— I had a much harder time socializing outside of my very (very) close circle. I had a much harder time concentrating and doing what I said I wanted to do. If only I wanted a way out of this but I think part of the beauty of losing yourself is that it feels kind of freeing… I just waved to this shadow of myself while I floated deeper and deeper into the sea until I couldn’t see anything surrounding me anymore or my body, not even my shadow, and I couldn’t see any way back and all of a sudden I was just— blank and floating…
Now let’s take a moment outside of my emotional landscape to name the things I actually did do in 2024… Maybe this will lead me somewhere… I spent New Years in Jamaica, it was my first time there and I absolutely loved it. Beautiful island. I went on to “meet” (online) the man who I would eventually fall completely and utterly in love with. This is a person and relationship I truly prayed for, I got to have some of the best conversations of my entire life with this man, nothing we explore is off limits really and he’s brilliant. Twice this year, I travelled to Alberta to see family and work (tattoo). In April, I had to have emergency laparoscopic surgery and my partner was there, first link, not leaving my side in the hospital and caring for me through the whole recovery. We met up again in Toronto in May. Then, I went to Grand Cayman for all of June to spend time with him and meet his family. I was near animals and in the ocean in ways I’d never been so brave to be near ever before in life. That felt good. In August, he came to visit and we drove 16 hours up north in BC to visit my family, fun adventure. In November, I got to go to St Lucia to celebrate my grandfather’s 89th birthday.
(I mean come on…how sweet is that mans smile?)
Outside of travel, I took a huge step in my life and applied for school— got in to start my Bachelor of Arts (psychology major). In November, I got this huge opportunity to throw what I decided to be a 3-day arts weekend in collaboration with BIPOC individuals and collectives; and called it Art & Alchemy. I feel genuinely that such a beautiful community was fostered that weekend and it filled my heart. The following weekend I tattooed at a 3 day convention. Throughout the entire year I tattooed at a couple cool parties, places, different cities; I still ran my open mic monthly; I still walk my dogs 3-4 times each day; I still met amazing clients. Lastly, came back to Grand Cayman for the holidays and am still here as I type this long-winded spiral.
I know this final paragraph is where I’m supposed to wrap this essay up all nice and put a cute little bow on it. BUT alas, we are writing into and through failure. It felt so dissonant to write about my emotional landscape and how direly depressed I have felt, to then explore the things on paper I have done. Maybe now I decipher what it means to find myself. There is a definition floating around the internet that talks about:
“Finding yourself is to learn what one values and truly wants in life.”
I feel like I know what I value and truly want in life. I dont hate myself. I think I’m pretty apt at self-reflection even. Maybe I have just gotten so comfortable wearing a mask that I can’t even identify myself anymore or which version is real. It feels like I’m floating with no real direction and no real answers to any real questions which I can’t even find myself asking. I dont feel like I’m living in the past, I feel like I have no access to or knowing of the future, I feel as though im being present in my day to day. But while here I find myself still wondering where the disconnect is stemming Most times I feel like I am directionless. This feels stupid to even think after writing that last paragraph but… this is textbook cognitive dissonance isn’t it?
My therapist asked— “there is an immense dissonance between what you feel like you are experiencing or achieving, and how your life looks from the outside; why do you think that is?”
I still haven’t finalized the answer. I struggle with black and white thinking. I think that depression and being so neurodivergent that I’m constantly masking makes me feel like my life, specifically, is worth so much less. But maybe life in its essence is simply a process of self-discovery, maybe I need to practice more self-compassion or patience. Maybe I will continue to lose myself, find myself, forget myself, question myself, learn about myself, maybe even annihilate some versions of myself and rebuild them from scratch, so I guess—
In this essay, I’ve come to understand that the self is a concept perpetually unfolding. And I’m going to keep finding out what bounds I can break.
Loved it and proud of you for starting your Bachelor of Arts program 💗
Thanks for this!