August Fernandes

I turn twenty-six in three days. I wrote the bottom entry on September 9th, 2016. I did not share it, but considering the fact that it is approaching a year, I would like to post it. I will have completed one year of my recovery, since I made the decision to heal myself. It will be one year since I chose to break free of a 15-year cycle of depression. Now, comparatively, one year may seem like nothing compared to fifteen years, but that one year changed my life. It gave me life.  It gave me a reason to live, to wake up in the morning, to look forward to the next day, but most importantly, it gave me a reason to love myself.  September 5th 2016 was the day after the worst panic attack I have had in all 25 years of being on this Earth. It shook my core and my mind so deeply, that I choose to no longer let my depression carry my soul, to stop pouring salt on a wound I was leaving open. I choose to finally care for it, stitch it up, bandage it, and let it heal.  As I approached my mid-20s, I started to see my depression as another person. I even named her. I think it made me separate myself from it, but I think it also gave my depression more power, and made me believe that I truly wasn’t in control. Depression was manageable when I didn’t give into it, before I gave up on myself. There became time, maybe it was a specific moment, but I let it win. I was tried of fighting, pretending to be happy, and I was tired of defending my mind to something constantly tearing it apart. I was living in pain, mentally and physically. Daily, I argued with myself, with my depression. I thought I gave up fighting, but there I was, time and time again... fighting. I became angry, solitary, unmotivated, and empty. I pushed everyone in my life away, but while I was doing it, I didn’t mind. I saw no future, and thus no consequences. I ruined every friend, family, and romantic relationship. I distanced myself from everyone, including myself. There came a time when I didn’t know who I was. And I don’t just mean ashamed of myself. I genuinely could not perceive myself. I didn’t know who was having these thoughts, I couldn’t recognize my own behaviors, and I felt like I was already dead. I was lost. I felt like a new self was born into my body, unwillingly, and this new person was pure evil. I would look into the mirror and stare. I didn’t even look like myself. I felt like I was hovering over my old body staring into its new face. My body was a vessel, and the weakness let “it” takeover. This mind was not mine to own, my body no longer belonged to me. It took losing everything important to me to push “her” aside, to put it simply. This path is not one I’d wish upon anyone, but I’m glad I experienced it. I appreciate that I now have the wisdom this brought to me, and the capability to share this empirical knowledge with anyone going through a similar time. The road to recovery wasn’t as difficult as living with depression, although it may seem like that on day one. A path to healing is unfamiliar, I get that. I understand that people find comfort in their depression, no matter how crippling it may be to someone. But there really is light at the end of the tunnel, as cliqué as that always sounds. Mind you, this year was not always rainbows and butterflies, but thunderstorms and hurricanes. As they say, “Nothing worth having comes easy.” As I did, I hope you choose yourself. I hope you decide to heal your mind and to walk a new path. Do not wish to return to “the old you,” or back to a life you were once happy with, because times change. You changed. Hope to be the best version of yourself, because you can. You can be everything you’ve ever wanted, but it’s up to you. Rely on yourself, believe in yourself, as hard as it is now. It will get better. You will be happy. Believe that from someone who has been through it. As much as you fight yourself, you must now fight for yourself. That’s the difference that will save you. ________________________________________ World Suicide Prevention Day is tomorrow, September 10th. And ironically, National Suicide Prevention Week is the Monday through Sunday (September 5 - 11, 2016) surrounding World Suicide Prevention Day. My healing began September 5th, without knowledge that this week was an important correlation to the end of what I’ve been feeling for years.  This process of healing has not been the kindest to my heart, or to my mind. I’ve struggled with the pain and hopelessness for about fifteen years. Some years were easier, others caused debilitating distress, and there were a few that seemed quite pleasant, but still, they had underlying pain. This 25th year circling the Sun will be different, because I am choosing to live a different life. I am choosing to be free. I am choosing happiness. And I am choosing myself.  Unfortunately, anxiety and depression can and will destroy you, if you let it. You need to be brave enough to stand up to yourself, and be strong enough to control your own thoughts. You need to see that you’re not only harming yourself further, but that you might never see genuine happiness again if you continue to fall victim to your mind. Don’t give up on yourself. You’re worth so much more than that. I get it, the feelings that you aren’t worth it, that you’re doomed for failure, that it’s pointless. I’ve felt those same feelings. But here I am, right now, telling you that it can and will end. It’s the most treacherous path you can humanly take, but oh, surviving it is worth it. YOU are worth it, even if you don’t believe it right now. I’m speaking to you honestly. I’m not trying to give you false hope. There is a reason to live. No matter how many past doubts you’ve had, doubts I’ve had. I’m telling you, one glimmer of hope is all that you need. 

Warning: This post contains language that some people may find offensive. 2016-10-02

I went running, and within the first few minutes of my run, I noticed that there was a tear in my new “few-month-old shoes.” Immediately I was disappointed that my shoes no longer looked brand new, free of flaws. They were no longer bright white, they were worn and dirty, and now ripped. For so long, I tried to keep them clean and pristine, denying them of their purpose. As of 2-3 weeks ago, I’ve been running regularly again, and they’ve been heavenly used, and I’m happy about that. But I instantaneously thought about how I could repair them, how I could stitch it up to make it look like it never happened, how I can make my shoes perfect and new again. I was upset that they were damaged, and that they may never look like they did when I first received them; my shoes were a gift.

Recently I read a book about symbols, and the author started it off by talking about an newspaper advertisement she sent out: a request for dreams about shoes. I thought it was somewhat silly, for I never had a dream about shoes that was in any way symbolic. Shoes were always just something that covered my feet; I never had dreamt about them, at least I never had a dream I could remember specifically about “shoes.” I’m obsessed with symbolism, and I don’t take the word obsessed lightly. I have diagnosed OCD, and my obsessions sometimes overtake me. I took the book seriously, and I continued reading; it remained in my subconscious a week later.

While I was just about done with my run, a song started playing on the the iPod I was listening to, and it seemed fitting to my current situation. I remembered the words of the author. The song was “Beautiful” by Eminem; the lyrics are copied below:

“Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own Everybody has a private world where they can be alone Are you calling me? Are you trying to get through? Are you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you? I'm just so fuckin' depressed, I just can't seem to get out this slump If I could just get over this hump But I need something to pull me out this dump, I took my bruises, took my lumps Fell down and I got right back up But I need that spark to get psyched back up In order for me to pick the mic back up I don't know how or why or when I ended up in this position I'm in I'm starting to feel distant again So I decided just to pick this pen Up and try to make an attempt to vent But I just can't admit [...] But I just can't sit back and wallow In my own sorrow But I know one fact I'll be one tough act to follow One tough act to follow I'll be one tough act to follow Here today, gone tomorrow But you'd have to walk a thousand miles In my shoes, just to see What it's like, to be me I'll be you, let's trade shoes Just to see what it'd be like to Feel your pain, you feel mine Go inside each other's minds Just to see what we find [...] Nobody asked for life to deal us With these bullshit hands we're dealt We gotta take these cards ourselves And flip them, don't expect no help Now I could have either just Sat on my ass and pissed and moaned Or take this situation in which I'm placed in And get up and get my own I was never the type of kid To wait by the door and pack his bags Who sat on the porch and hoped and prayed For a dad to show up who never did I just wanted to fit in In every single place Every school I went I dreamed of being that cool kid Even if it meant acting stupid [...] Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own Everybody has a private world where they can be alone... So are you calling me, are you trying to get through, oh? Are you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you? So oh oh Yeah... To my babies. Stay strong. Daddy will be home soon And to the rest of the world, God gave you them shoes To fit you, so put 'em on and wear 'em Be yourself, man, be proud of who you are Even if it sounds corny, Don't ever let no one tell you, you ain't beautiful...”