Saturday, August 19, 2017
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
I had a conversation with my best friend yesterday about our downfall, about our depression, about our continuous loop of sadness. In conclusion, we have decided to stop this endless chain reaction, we will try to let go of everything that has happened, swallow the bitter pill, accept the past, make a fresh new start, a new chapter, recovery.
Letting go has never been an easy job. I can’t believe I’m writing about this again. I thought, for once, someone might stay. I thought. But there’s no point of holding on to people who do not care about you or your wellbeing. Therefore, I let go. I believe, everyone has their own timing, and maybe it’s just not my time yet. I have my own purpose. I also believe that the universe is putting people in our lives for a reason and some lessons. I have learnt my lessons, and it’s time for me to let go again. I want to see this man happy, and that alone will make me happy. One boulder has been lifted from my shoulder.
People who are close to me know how much I love Salvador Dali, and they wonder why. Dali was never a really good person to begin with, he loved himself, no, he was obsessed with himself. I bought another book about him last month, and as I was reading it, I realised that one of the main reasons why I love this guy is because he loved himself, and it’s very hard for me to do that. I’m still struggling with self-love. Self-hatred is always easier to do that self-love. My mind keeps telling me that I am worthless, that I don’t deserve any kind of happiness. Sometimes, to the point where it can be considered destructive. I know how unhealthy that mindset it, yet I keep doing that unconsciously. If I want to get better, I have to stop sooner or later. I am not my social anxiety. I am not my depression. I want to get better. So, I decided to slowly recover from this madness. I’ve made peace with myself. I’m learning to love (myself) again. I’m learning to be that cheery and confident child that I used to be. I’m learning to accept compliments. I’m learning to like my body, my identity, my flaws. It’s difficult, but I don’t want to give up on this. I have to keep going. If I can be happy just by watching simple things around me, then why can’t I be happy with myself?
Another boulder lifted from my shoulder.
I’m learning to stop worrying, and start laughing at life. Watching trees moving and listening to the sound of adzan from the mosque next door has never been therapeutic. I don’t need to stop posting or scrolling on my social media platforms. I don’t need that kind of detox. I love watching people around me grow; physically, mentally, close, and far. I used to have a major fear of missing out ever time I see people having fun without me. Now, I realised that I wouldn’t be happy if I did go with them. I have my own version of happiness. I have my own way of being happy. Sitting here on my rooftop with a bunch of stray cats and wild afternoon wind is enough for me. I like being alone with my thoughts. I like being in the moment. I like watching the leaves turning yellow. I like watching clouds running around in the sky. I like watching birds fly north. I like watching people laugh. I like watching people happy. That’s happiness for me. The ability to be in the moment even when nobody is around to share that little moment with you. I will not let life laughs at me again.
I like taking photos, but what do I do with them? I just put them in my folders, and post some of the on my Instagram just to feel something. I thought these photos are useless. Until yesterday. A college student from Australia contacted me via Instagram, she asked me to help her with her research. She’s doing a research about street children in Jakarta, she saw my photos, and thought that I might be able to help her. So, she reached out, and guess what? I just did a whole bunch of infographics for SDGs and some of them cover this topic. So, I have the updated statistics and resources. Plus, I’m currently working at the UN, and this is such a UN topic. I’m so happy that my hobby can help someone’s research.
While googling about street children, I found out that the International Day of Street Children falls on April 12, my birthday. I’m thinking of doing a more thorough research on this topic, maybe one day I can do something that involves photographing people on the street, especially children. I was talking and planning about the future with my nutritionist friend this afternoon, and we finally made some plans that will involve my hobby and her specialty. It’s a long term thing. We still have a long way to go, but in ten years, we will look back at today and say that we made it.
I started to draw again. It’s been a long hiatus since the last time I made a proper artwork. I started learning new techniques, styles, and incorporating new media to my drawings. I’m thinking of continuing my Gadis Pantai illustrated book, but I want to make something that involve this newfound freedom and self-acceptance. This has to be celebrated. After years of battling self-hatred and suicidal thoughts (I’m not saying that these two demons aren’t coming back, I just want to be positive that they’re not coming back) I’ve finally forgave myself. I have so much love to give, and one of the ways to let it pour is through my drawings.
Maybe this is freedom. To be able to accept myself and my potentials. To be able to love myself and see myself in a better light. To be able to forgive my past and my self-destructive mind. To be able to let go and let god. To be able to laugh at life. To lust for life. To just be good to people. To be in the moment and feel the time goes without fear. To bask in small things and find happiness in everything. Maybe freedom does not require me to get out of this town after all (even though I eventually will). Freedom is within me. It’s a state of mind. Happiness is a luxurious good that comes for free. So, feast on your life.
I’m gonna leave you with this wonderful poem by Derek Walcott.
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
(PS: I think what they said about solar eclipse is true. It’s a start of something new. A new chapter. A new beginning).
(PPS: The fact that I put my own photo as the header is a sign that my self-love is improving. I hate seeing myself in pics).