Still living in a trailer. Still taking care of Dad’s cancer and Hep C. Still in socioeconomic limbo. It’s been some weeks since my last SSRI dosage. However the past few months have allowed me some much needed time to reflect, and at some point recently I realized I had achieved something far greater than I had ever thought possible in my position: enlightenment. 7 years after plummeting into poverty and losing the stability of a married healthy family, 7 years of things getting progressively worse, along the way dealing with dysmorphia, depression, anxiety attacks, two suicide attempts and a final descent into utter nihilism, I can honestly say I’ve grown up.
You see, I learned something over the summer in South Prairie: It’s okay to have nothing. Because you can never truly have nothing. In the place I had found myself, with nothing left to take for granted, I realized what I had been taking for granted all along: Myself and my own existence. In hitting rock bottom I was provided a new perspective on what it means to have, and what it means to be, and how I could use this state of being to better the being of others. First, I knew, I had to better my view of myself.
Instead of hating myself for what I lacked and punishing myself when I failed, I learned to cooperate with and eventually befriend myself, and decided I was ready to make a change.
Eventually the sense of empowerment this journey of self-improvement granted me was enough to give me clarity, and I saw that life was worth living, even with depression.
The hardest part by far was letting go. I had no idea just how big a part of me my depression had become, and I really had to work at it to fully convince myself I was to move on.
I also learned that one’s character is greatly reflected in the people he or she chooses to surround themselves with, and I couldn’t be happier with the ones who chose to stay with me through thick and thin.
And so here I sit, thinking of all the people who’ve helped me get this far, writing this late-night batch of nuances and loose metaphors, knowing I still have quite a struggle ahead of me, feeling in my heart that I’m still not quite fully healed and I may never be, and I can honestly say I’m okay with that. I’m ready to be again.
Hello, world! I’m Nick, and I’m here to stay.