Messy but thriving

 “I can’t decide

Maybe its enough to get by for now, but

I’m having the time of my life

Rotting in the sun, we’re inside

The jaws of life” — Vic Fuentes/ PTV

I used to call myself a cry baby, ironically. Come to think of it, prior to March, I seldomly cried unless I was in extreme distress and usually ran to isolate when I found that I couldn’t stop the tears. Crying is tiring, especially when your body uses the opportunity to release stress from not only the present issue, but every issue you’ve buried before that. So, of course, twenty years of tradgey trying to work it’s way out of my body after the trauma of an almost successful suicide will make you feel like you missed Robin William’s warning in Jumanji when the stampede started.

Lesson #1: Feel and cry now, and do it often

Now, when I call myself a cry baby, I mean the most intense verison of the label. For better or for worse, I’m going to cry. Baby hippos? Tears. Acknowledging my medical dilemma? Tears. Being an awkward human and saying something weird and not having the chance to clarify? Tears. Literally everything in the news is a triggered sob fest. Every compliment, every painful memory, every grounded moment of humanity calls for tears.

Lesson #2: Be around people who welcome your tears

And now more then ever, as I work through the traumas that got me here, I find myself thinking about a scene in Degrassi. Without getting too much in the weeds, Clare attempts to tell Eli that she’s pregnant with his child and not Drew’s. He’s big upset she slept with Drew in the first place (and doesn’t give her the change to tell him) and she starts crying at his coldness and he goes “Tears, Clare? Didn’t expect to see those from such a whore”. Now now, he has a redemption arch and this post won’t be spent defending my love for Eli Goldsworthy. But the moment is making me think about the times I’ve froze when I wanted to cry, trying to face that which harmed me. I swallowed all of those moments down like horse pills without water, and wonder now why my throat feels raw and disconnected.

Lesson #3: You and your body deserve more then just keeping score

Truth be told, I think it’s more then just the crying. It’s allowing yourself to feel, even when those feelings try and swallow you whole. I have an issue with ruminating on and/ or intellectualizing a problem until there’s nothing but ash in it’s wake. I thought that walking away without tears was me picking the best path forward – and god, I was wrong. And that’s okay, because I’m still here now, and I’m healing parts of me I didn’t know needed extra love. So, why am I spending this post detailing how much of a mess I’ve been?

Simple. Because crying makes life worth living.

I don’t mean this in a spiritual way, I mean this in a “cold-hard truth” kind of way. I’ve cried because I’m grieving, because I’m angry, because I’m sad, because I’m happy, because I’m terrified. And it feels gross and dramatic and exhausting, but it also feels like getting down to eye level with Little Mia and re-affirming that I’m going to keep her safe. Crying makes me feel safe. Tears are the words meant for others that I’ll say even when they aren’t listening (and aren’t there to listen). Sobs are the evidence that antibodies are making progress on my emotional wounds. I can’t say it felt like this at first, or that it’ll always feel this way. But I sit here here now with you, with red and raw eyes, feeling my whimsy finding me once again.

Lesson #4: Practice active listening with your body. It’s been shouting this entire time.

Let me be clear: I don’t come to you all knowing. It’s been a month since my chosen death day, and I haven’t quite felt that “thank god I didn’t die” feeling I’ve been waiting for (it’ll be the title of the post when I do). I have, however, felt pretty much every other emotion you could think of. Just these big feelings in a short body and only 24 hours to make sense of them – and- work -and- do the bare minimum self care -and- mentor those who appreciate the stories -and – push against the daily dose of oppression -and- do something that brings me joy. Listen – I’m fucking tired. And maybe you are too. And outside of the cheesy but truthful “you aren’t alone” line, I also want to point out that being tired is a result of the work being put in.

Lesson #5: Trust the process, even when it sucks

I’m complaining -and- I’m still here. That counts for something, right? I’m going to do the work – and – I get the VIP pass to bitch and moan about doing the work. We can call it expressive gratitude, because that’s exactly what all this crying has made me – extremely, intensely, and disgustingly grateful. Grateful in a way where I feel like I could burst into a pile of confetti. Grateful in a way where I could scream about it at the top of my lungs for hours. Grateful in a way where thinking about it makes me cry (shocker, I know).

There are truths I know about myself now that I didn’t allow myself to appreciate before. I’m a hopelessly chaotic lover – I’ll use my whole heart, both fists, and four cups of coffee when I feel safe. I’m a textures girly – give me all the silk but keep wet ground and baking sheets far away from me. I enjoy being expressive and have no real desire to “fix my face”. Candy and ice cream are my love language, and I should not be trusted with any launch codes unless sweets are obliterated. There’s so much more but I won’t dwell on these, because I truly wouldn’t know these things if I didn’t create an environment for them to come through.

And what better way to do that then to have an entire playlist dedicated to making “tear time” sacred?! So, dear reader, because you’ve traveled alongside me this far, I’d love to share with you some of the songs I reach for when I want to ensure Im staying grounded in the moment as the water works hit. They may not be your jam and they aren’t in any specific order, but I hope it reminds you or songs, or movies, or places that make you feel just as safe!

• Jaws of Life – Pierce the Veil
  • The chorus reminds me of how bittersweet living is. Its raw and it’s messy and I want to enjoy it’s imperfect balance
• Pizzazz – Akintoye
  • “If Ima be sad Ima do it with pizzazz”. This, with you? It’s part of my pizzazz
• Anna Sun – Walk the Moon
  • Reminds me of the summer nights with my mother that I can’t get back. We lost my childhood home and it’ll always weigh on my heart
• A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes – Lily James (Cinderella)
  • “No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true”. I’m living proof of this sentence.
• Know Who You Are (Moana)
  • This entire exchange is me with Little Mia. Most of the time, she’s giving me my heart back
• Stick Season – Noah Kahan
  • “And I’m split in half, but that’ll have to do”. Listen – “I want to build with you” heart break is brutal and I’ll carry this scar with me everywhere. Heartbreak was a reminder that church bells ring for weddings AND funerals. Mass will always be on time, though – even as I glare and pout.
• Duality – Slipknot
  • This sounds like the dramatic-but-accurate bitching and moaning I do
• Therapy – All Time Low
  • Therapy sucks. Medication sucks. Healing sucks. And I’d make sure to pick this path of recovery, in every single life time
• On the Brightside – NeverShoutNever
  • Let’s all learn the art of letting go, and trusting overselves to make the decision of letting go because it’s what best for us
• The A Team – Ed Sheeran
  • My sad feels cold. This song feels cold. I dont know, it just makes sense to me.
• Brown Eyed Girl – Van Morrison
  • Reminds me of a time my mom and dad sang this to me in the car. I’ve never not liked my brown eyes since then.
• Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen
  • I was a survivor model and walked to this song. Crazy empowering.
• Tear In My Heart – Twenty One Pilots
  • This one kind of speaks for itself, I think.
• Goodbye – Bo Burnham
  • “Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago?”. I was 12 and two years away from a major break down. It scares me to question whether this journey is a step backwards.
• I Found A Way – Drake Bell
  • Resiliency comes in handy, but fuck, I hate having to be resilient in the first place. Why must the world and be be like this? Fuck everyone and everything that’s forced me into resiliency.
• Call Me When You’re Sober – Evanescence
  • This reminds me of walking away from abusive situations. I’ll always be the villian in some households. I had to make the choice to let that be, despite my nature.
• Whatever It Takes – Tyler Kyte (Degrassi credits)
  • Love Degrassi, love my passion, love who I’m becoming. I remind myself of this song everytime I wanna throw in the towel
• Anklebiters – Paramore
  • There’s a list of things people have said to me since October that float in and out of my focus. In some ways, I consider the idea that I’m a horrible person. But believing that only hurts me, so I’m choosing to fall inlove with myself instead
• Creep – Radiohead (Haley Reinhart cover)
  • I love this woman’s voice, and I love Postmodern Juxebox. “What the hell am I doing here?” is something I ask myself every hour or so. Different answers arise – and that’s okay!

This was a bit longer then I would like it to be, and trust, this isn’t even half of the songs I play – just the ones I’ve played within the last week or so. If you take anything away from this post, it’s to make yourself a space that feels safe enough to fall apart in, and then fall apart in it. Don’t stay there forever, but do allow yourself and your body the chance to feel and to let go. The leap from surviving to living is hard, but if I can stick the landing, so can you.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it fell in one. You. Deserve. Better.

Until next time, my weeping willows!

~ Amillia