As I start my new life at university I have been reflecting
on my progress and the course of what has turned out to be the most difficult
and challenging year of my life so far.
The year began in a state of great turmoil and destructive
energy that saw me plunge into the depths of depression and psychosis. This
frenetic and overwhelming period then segued into months of absolute
despondency and inertia: I hardly moved or left the house for days, even weeks,
on end.
My obsession with myself reached new heights and I hardly
thought about anyone or anything else. I had unwittingly forfeited everything
positive and life-affirming in exchange for a miserable existence which
consisted of endless mental pain and torturous, depressive periods of rumination.
As the elements that had hitherto defined my life (work, friends, physical
activity etc.) slowly ebbed away, so there became more and more space for my
own brain to expand and fold in upon itself, until I was all that I was left with.
My sole focus became this internal world that I inhabited
and I fantasised about an ideal image of myself that I could never attain. I
became my own jailor for not being the ‘me’ I should be- the version of myself
that I felt so painfully and acutely whenever I looked in the mirror- and consequently
felt so steeped in the repercussions of my flaws and failings that I adamantly
believed there could be no ‘redemption’. In other words I did not think that I
could ever learn to value myself.
Rather arrogantly, at this point in time, I thought that I
had reached a true, more intellectualised (albeit wretched) state of being. I
believed that happiness and meaning were just illusions that people, ignorant
or otherwise, distracted themselves with, whilst I was seeing and experiencing
life for what it really was.
As well as being depressed, I was in the grips of something
like an existential crisis. Having questioned life and finding that there was
no fixed or inherent meaning in it other than that which you create yourself, I
refused to participate in it. It was all just a silly scripted game! No longer
a player, I resigned myself to this ‘true’ way of living. I can think of a no
less sinister description of my life at this point other than comparing it to a
hollow echoing chamber where the only sound was of my own internal angst.
While it is part of human nature that we create beliefs and
systems of making sense of the world and of ourselves, if these are negative
and continually reinforced they can lead us to become fatally blinkered and
stuck in states of self-delusion. With time, a lot of determined thought and
teasing out of ingrained behaviours, I have rejected this fruitless and utterly
exhausting quest for meaning in exchange for actual meaning- and whether the universe (as if it even feigned to
care!) designates it as real or not I no longer care.
Replacing the emptiness and loneliness with people and
progress feels wonderful. I try not to always look too deeply in search of
answers. After waiting for billions of years, and spending 21 years in the
world, I feel as though I have only really just woken up to it. Of course I
have bad days, everyone does, but I have started to be able to put these into
perspective and then let go. I love
going to university each day and making friends- there are so many interesting
and lovely people it would be selfish not to devote time and energy to those
around me. And in the process of doing this I have stopped looking for such
high levels of self-perfection- after all, I don’t demand them of anyone else.
Self-discovery is a difficult process- and you may not
always like what you find! - but I am grateful to be here and finally accept
responsibility for my life being what I choose to make of it.
