November 2, 2011
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november
I know everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold.
I'll be fine once I get it.
Yeah, I'll be good.- Kid Cudi, Pursuit of Happiness
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"You're awesome, Christa! I love how you always say you're doing awesome, even when you're tired."
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As much as I will miss being able to blame everything going wrong in my life on the month of October, I admit that I am quite relieved that month is done with. Among many things, my integrity and my determination in the lab was truly tested for the first time, my ex-anniversary came and went, all that jazz. However, although I heavily connote October with dread, it truly developed into a month full of love, as well. I had so much support and love through all of the hard times, and I had the most Halloween-y Halloween that I’ve had in years. And I love Halloween, so that was awesome.
In a far more personal way, November is now an equally impactful month for me. It was a year ago, in November, that I first came face-to-face with the lowest point in my entire life. It’s something that I should meet with more shame and stigma, which is how I approached it in the past. But I already trespassed into the forbidden grounds of transparency a long time ago, and nothing has steered me away from it yet, so I might as well focus it productively. So I’ve decided since then that the possibility of informing someone -- and possibly even helping someone else in the long run -- is far more important than the value of secrets and inhibitions. But it was last year that I was forced to admit my depression. Prior to last November, I was able to scrape by on denial and wishful thinking. That is because last November, a critical symptom was added to my depression: suicidality. Last November, I wrote my suicide note and I planned my death. That is the weight that November carries with me.
But unlike October, November is consequently very beautiful to me. After all, a year ago, I didn’t think that I would still be here today. A year ago, I stopped expecting to see my twentieth birthday, I stopped expecting to see my college graduation, and I stopped expecting to ever see the end of my depression, low self-esteem, and loneliness. A year ago is when I lost all hope.
Yet last week, I began fervently exploring programs for graduate school. I’m going to turn twenty-one in two months, and I absolutely cannot wait. I freakin’ love birthdays. Now, I am just ecstatic to see what the future holds for me.
I love being able to carry myself with confidence. I used to look in the mirror and just beat myself down. I used to cry about my weight, my complexion, my hair, my body. I thought that Phuc would be the only boy in my life to ever think I was pretty or attractive. I thought that Phuc was crazy, because I was sure that to the rest of the world, I was disgusting. It made me so self-conscious. I just wanted to be a wallflower, a nameless face in the crowd. I wanted to be forgettable, because if anyone noticed me, then they would inevitably notice how repulsive I am. Now, I love dancing like no one is looking, then being cheered on for an encore. I love singing like no one is listening, then hearing the room roar with applause.
I used to hate this university, and tried to get out of this city at every possible opportunity. A year ago, everyday was torture; I was surrounded by people, but always felt so alone. And now, I have an extraordinary community of love, enthusiasm, and support from my friends, my colleagues, and my professors. Every time I leave Merced now, a piece of my heart is left behind. My heart is dropping at the very acknowledgement that I won’t get to spend my birthday in Merced. If home is where the heart is, then there's now definitely an element of "home" in this little town.
November is beautiful because I love being able to trace over the memories of the past year, and I truly feel like I have overcome. Can you imagine that I was so close to never experiencing these past several months? I never would've known any of the people that I know now. I never would've been able to attain what I have accomplished, or any of the things that I am still yet to accomplish. Yet, I am thankful for the trials that I encountered. I truly believe that if I never had suicide as an obstacle, then I would not be as aggressive with life as I am now. Because I felt the pain of loneliness, I now try to reach out to the lives of as many people as possible, so that they won’t feel the loneliness that I felt. Because I felt the burn of hate, insults, and demoralization, I now make every effort to pick people up, and to be unbridled in compliments, joy, and kindness. The old belief that I was worthless now resounds with me as a challenge. Now it’s a laughable concept to shoot for anything less than extraordinary.
November is beautiful, because me being alive right now, a year later, is proof that it gets better. Getting to breathe in this air and getting to write these words is nothing less than beautiful. It’s so appropriate during this month of gratefulness. I am thankful for being alive.
If there is anything that I have truly learned from the past year, it is kindness. It took me more than half a year of torture, hate, and suffering to learn that. Everything I have now, it is because of kindness.
And I am thankful for that.