“What Brings You In Today?”

“What brings you in today?” are the only words I remember clearly from December 19th of 2019. Everything from the last two months of 2019 was a complete blur. I only remember bits and pieces and those memories make me feel fragile and small. On December 19th of 2019, I admitted myself into the hospital because I was struggling mentally and emotionally. When the woman at the front desk asked me, “What brings you in today?” I said, “I’m having thoughts about hurting myself.” It was by far one of the worst days of my life, but it was the one day where I was forced to reflect on myself. I finally had to face many of my demons…some of which I voluntarily tried avoiding. Some of my demons were made from abusive romances, work obsession, my sexual preference, being away from the island, starting grad school, and just feeling behind in life. I felt alone, afraid, angry, suppressed, and trapped, to say the least.

After I was hospitalized it took me a long time to come to terms with my illness. I did not want to admit that my brain worked differently and needed more self-care than others. Thankfully, I have the privilege of having an amazing therapist who has helped me throughout my healing process. She has been such a rock in my life. Alana, if you ever read this, you are truly an amazing woman and I am happy to have a therapist like you. Alana has been my toughest and greatest critique. She has taught me that healing cannot happen without self-love, support, and acceptance. All things that I have deprived myself of. Throughout my journey, I have learned that I didn’t love myself as much as I thought I did. I’m pretty sure I hated myself more than I loved myself, but a lot has changed in the last year and let me tell you how. I have finally accepted myself as the bisexual Puerto Rican woman that I am and always have been. I am a proud person on the LGBT+ spectrum. This acceptance was more difficult than it was festive since I had internalized a lot of homophobia from my culture, society and religion therefore I would project harmful ideas onto me. With my self-denial I hurt a lot of women in the process who have shown interest in me and for that, I am eternally regretful. However, I also had to break away from some women who constantly measured my bisexuality, making me feel like a “fake bisexual” because I am too girly or because I spent a long portion of my life “closeted.”  Self-acceptance comes with a lot of brutal realizations, some are beautiful, and some are hurtful.

My healing journey came with many bad days but for every bad day, I got three good ones. I came to learn that I can find balance in my life again and that love means nothing if I do not love myself. I have also learned to understand that therapy is not about “fixing” me, but it is about seeing things clearly. This year I have felt like I have 20/20 vision (haha, made a 2020 joke) because I have been able to listen to my body/mind and hear/see its needs and cater to them. Now, if I need a break, I take it. If I need more sleep, I take it. If I need an extension, I ask for it. I no longer push myself because as my therapist says, “the more you push, the worse you’ll feel.” In no way does this mean that I don’t have days that I repeat some old behavior because I am only human, and this is only year one of my healing journey, but I am doing one hell of a job. But some days are good, and some days are bad.

I have also learned that there is more to life than papers, competition, and work. There is laughter, there is sadness, there is friendship, there are pride parades, and good food with good company. There is so much more that I am dying to experience things that I would have never realized if I would have taken my life last year. In the last year, I have felt more shame than I have ever felt in my 23 years of life. I felt like benign mentally ill embarrassed my parents, my sister, and the rest of my family yet they have been my biggest supported there are days I can’t help but think that my moment of rock bottom is embarrassing and shameful even when I know it’s not. Some nights I close my eyes and think of the Black nurse who brushed my hair in the emergency room. “You have to promise me that you’re going to fight this and make it out of here. We are gonna make you feel better. I got you. You have a long life to live, do you understand?” I didn’t understand at the moment, but I do now. Her hands in my hair and her voice live in my head forever. I do have a long life ahead of me. Temporary pain is not worth a permanent decision.

P.S. my sexual preference is no one’s business but it might be *shock* to some. If this changes your love for me, then you never loved me to begin with. Reflect on that.

If you struggle with mental illness, you are not alone.