It's funny, I'm sitting at my computer at 7 pm editing photos from last month while today's photos are importing, and I feel an ache in my chest, like pressure. I suddenly realized that for the first time in a long time, I am happy. Growing up, I always felt as if I saw the world differently, like the colours were more vibrant and the sounds were louder. My emotions felt so heavy. I remember moments from primary school; looking back, I know they were happy moments, but little me didn't feel that happiness. Those moments were like a brief glimpse of sunshine on a cloudy day—a moment of warmth before the cool shadows wrapped around me once again.
Now, I understand it was all because of the chemicals in my brain. As a teenager, I got answers and help from a therapist for my depression. Ten years ago, I chose to go without antidepressants because they made me feel numb, like the world was a dark, quiet place. I wanted the colors back. My therapist taught me to recognize the signs of falling into depressive states and to picture what my depression felt like. For me, it’s a deep, dark well that extends endlessly into the darkness. On the best days, I sit at the top, my legs dangling down, looking at the world around me. Sometimes, something happens, and I slip and fall. Other times, I don't even realize I'm at the bottom until I look up and see the faint hint of light. I spend my life climbing the side of the well, only to sit at the edge at the top.
This year has been big for me—not in a career way, but personally. I've changed my thinking, started living healthier, and surrounded myself with amazing, beautiful people. But I started to feel lost because I was changing so much, and even my own thoughts began to sound like someone else's. I'm happy with the changes, but anxiety's shadowy hands started to grapple me. I looked in the mirror and struggled to see myself.
Looking back at old photos of me, I was a mess. I let everything get to me. I fell in love with a man I thought was a white knight, but now I realize he may have been a knight, but not a white one. The fallout of that relationship dragged me down into the well. But when I looked in the mirror, I felt like me.
I used to be a creative little goth girl, expressing my inner self through my appearance. But working in retail and photographing, my appearance changed to become more "professional." I lost my way of expressing myself without even knowing it until I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.
With my weight loss (down 14kgs now), my clothes started to get too small. Shopping felt like a crossroads. I saw each style of clothes, colours, and who I could be in each. Was I still that little goth girl wearing only black, that retail girl in creams and light browns, or someone else entirely?
I may not have recognized myself in the mirror, but I could visualize who I wanted to be. It started with the clothes, adding something fun (my funky pants). But I wanted a piece of my past too. It's funny how much a haircut can change your view of yourself. A front fringe and darker colour allowed me to look in the mirror and see aspects of my past and pieces of my future. Because while I have depression, I am allowed to be happy.
So, while I'm sitting here editing, my chest full of pressure, I have a smile on my face because I am truly happy. My happiness isn't based on the man I'm dating or how I look to the world. No. I am happy because I found that rope, climbed out of that fucking well, and am walking away from it. I may fall back in, but I know the path now. I love who I am, and while I'm still at the start of my journey to the best version of myself, I know I don't walk that path alone. I look to either side of me and see my friends with me.
