Breakdown, let's break it down

Two days after my parents left for the Philippines after a five-month visit, I got a text from a friend,

“I’m meeting X’s friend.”

It seems harmless and unsuspecting at first. I even laughed. I was not sure who X was, so I asked, Who’s X? And she replied, X, our friend. (Well, technically, X is my long-time friend from school whom I introduced to her.)    

When she clarified what was happening, I felt unsettled. I realized that while others seem to move forward, I am the friend who stays the same. The force of this realization was overwhelming.

If there is some metamorphosis to be had, I would have taken it gladly. But I didn’t. I was thrown back in time, where I just grew complacent. With my relationships, my behaviours, and my sense of happiness.

The realization shook me. The question echoed in my mind: 'How do you take space?' 

I wondered if it meant living boldly or shrinking to stay safe. I began to see that these choices defined how I interact with others and with myself.

For the longest time, I was doing the latter. I was afraid to hold so much space and left myself in a box. I welcomed people, supported them, gave them all the love I could, yet I gave little to myself. It made me feel small. I held space for people to be themselves, which eventually held me back from being mine.

It’s a sunny September. The sun glaring brightly outside was a bitter contrast to how I was feeling. 

For the first time in my life, I got a complete breakdown. 

I cried countless tears for the times I let myself down. For the times I’ve chosen other people’s needs before mine. For the times I may have a shot at happiness, but choose to be just okay. For those times that I ruined bridges because I was completely focused on an alley. I wailed at the thought that I could never blame anyone for feeling this way, because I brought it upon myself.

I’m no stranger to uprooting and rerouting. For fudge’s sake, it’s my second! And yet, I’m still doing the same things I’ve always wanted to break free from. Friends would tell me, “You’re so brave,” yet “Am I really?” When I hang with the same people, drift to the same habits, and limit myself to preconceived notions?

“What’s your greatest fear?”

My response always changes with time. But what seems to be more poignant is this: being alone. I always wondered what makes me fear being alone. Is it really feeling lonely, or is it the idea that I’m always with someone? And being alone somehow feels strange?

It is a given that we fear the inevitable, the unknown, the variable that comes in the in-between, but more than that, I fear for the familiar. I feared losing people I love, relationships going sour, love turning to indifference, because when you think about it, what makes you happy right now is what you have. And what makes you sad is losing a bit of this familiarity.

Crashing like that woke me. 

The reason I’ve wanted to move abroad has got to do with economics, but more than that, it’s about freedom. Of attempting to attain the impossible. But by the looks of it, I am nowhere near my goal. If I keep this up, I may never truly have the chance to change my path.

I no longer want to be trapped by my old patterns. I want to honor my own needs and rebuild myself into someone I aspire to be. My breakdown became a chance to start again.

Free from guilt this time.