Choosing to Live my Truth

I was diagnosed with depression when I was 15, but I had symptoms as far back as I can remember.  I felt very out of place as a child, like I didn’t fit in with my family or the people around me.  Looking back now, I believe a good part of my depressed moods were triggered by trying to conform and make myself more like others.  I was a sensitive child; my feelings were easily hurt and my empathy for others was overwhelming at times.  I also tended to daydream and was often called “Spacey Tracie” at school.  I came to believe that my emotions were only an annoyance to others that made me unlovable and that I did not deserve to dream.  I tried to repress the sensitivity and stop daydreaming to the best of my ability.

As time went by, I continued to sink into deeper and deeper depressions.  I felt like no one understood me.  No one even seemed to really see me.  I kept waiting to be seen, heard, and understood.  If only I could be seen, heard, and understood then I could also feel really loved and truly wanted. 

About six or seven years ago, I had an epiphany.  How was anyone supposed to see, hear, or understand me when I was always trying to repress who I was?  The only time people got a glimpse of my truest self was when the pressure became too much and I exploded, violently and unattractively, with all the pent-up emotion and suppressed dreams that I didn’t feel I deserved to dream.  I made the decision to do my best to start living my truth. 

The first thing I had to do was face my truth.  I had to find out for myself who I really was after all those years of trying to be someone “better”.  I won’t lie, this was not comfortable.  I had to own my decisions, good and bad, that had led me down a path of depression and mental illness. I had always resentfully blamed others for telling me I was bad, there was something wrong with me, or that I was not enough.  I had never stopped to consider the real problem was that I believed them. 

Turning around those beliefs of being bad, wrong, or not enough and learning to love and accept myself was the second thing I had to do.  That turned out to be a long and ongoing process.  I dated myself and got to know who I really was.  I became more and more aware of the thoughts I had about myself and I consciously worked to change them by giving myself the same kind of compassionate understanding I try to offer others.

My third task was learning to let go of the past and set healthy boundaries.  I saw a therapist for years (I had started before my epiphany) and she was a great help to me in this.  Learning to say “no” was a huge step for me.  I stopped going along with what others wanted in hopes that they would love me more for being compliant.  Now that I had some self-love, this was easier to do.  I was not desperate and starving for love anymore.

Finally, I had to start showing up.  I show up as myself for all to see, whether they like me or not.  This often pushes me out of my comfort zone.  It means accepting my body, my loose, comfortable, and sometimes frumpy clothing style and going with my instinct to skip the make-up so many women wear, even though I know it isn’t what society deems beautiful.  It means being okay with the fact I am often the quietest person in the room and being ready to say outright I just feel like being quiet when I feel pushed to speak.  It means speaking and acting on my truth when I feel moved to, even when I may not want to. 

Showing up in my truth is a choice I make every day.  I still have clinical depression but learning to live my truth has been more helpful than any medication ever could be.  I am now empowered to handle depressive episodes and I move through them much quicker and with less pain and suffering.  Now that I see, hear, and understand myself, others do too, and I have found more people than I could have imagined possible that resonate with who I am and hold me in their heats with affection.