Loneliness

Braille translation: This is how I navigate my words,

I am blind, yet I can still see some things, but it's going away. Week after week I see less and less, to a degree I'm sure I won't have any useful vision left by the end of the year... And I try to rationalise that my grandparents are narcissists, my dad and stepmum are very mentally rigid autistics - and since I also am autistic I should understand this rigidity - and my mum is trying her best to support me, she's the only one who doesn't frustrate me honestly... But it still is so hard to be so lonely in this...

My dad and stepmum aren't the biggest of issues to face, but yes I'd love if they could understand how traumatic and hard this is being for me, stop sending me job applications for a day, understand how much I'm struggling, understand how much it hurts. And then here I have my grandparents not making any effort to understand this is real, this is happening and it's happening fast. Using "this that" language, pointing at stuff or asking me something without the word. Just some minutes ago my grandpa wanted me to get him the cutlery drying cylinder... And he asked me "get that thing for me", and I'm day after day so much more frustrated so it's being hard to mask my body language emotional response, and I pulled my hands up in a sign of frustration and asked "what thing?" And he really sounded a bit annoyed that I didn't know.

It doesn't help to point at something, it doesn't help to say this, that, there... I just want some clear language and I want to feel like I belong, like I matter! They make no effort to accommodate me, to listen to me, to understand when I'm venting out my frustrations about this ableist world. I have an appointment tomorrow that I'll go by myself, and I'm already pre suffering because I already wonder how much I'll have to advocate for myself, I am tired.

I am exhausted!

And I feel completely lonely.

Last night, I was relaxing and reading Keke Palmer’s Master of Me when a single page of words stopped me completely. It forced me to look back at the way I used to operate, revealing a harsh truth about how I handled my own history.

For as long as I can remember, I have journeyed through this life as a survivor of intense trauma. Because of those early experiences, I developed a deep urge to alleviate pain for everyone around me. I tried to make their lives easier by absorbing their burdens, genuinely believing it was my calling to be a saving grace for the people in my circle. I acted as a shield against the uncomfortable suffering that naturally comes with life.But in doing all of this, I completely neglected myself.

Because I operated this way for my entire life, the people around me came to expect it. That was simply what they were used to. I was always the reliable one, the sacrificial one, the one who would travel to the ends of the world just to be there. For years, I mistakenly dubbed this self-sacrifice as my life's purpose.

At the end of last year, something shifted.

My eyes opened to a reality I had been avoiding:

I was pouring entirely into others and leaving absolutely nothing for myself.

I was sacrificing the personal and professional opportunities that could happen if I chose to implement that exact same energy into my own healing and my own goals.

To grow, I had to detach myself from the fantasy that I was truly loved and appreciated for the sacrifices I made. I had to face the reality that a lack of boundaries invites a lack of respect.

So, I started setting strict boundaries.Navigating this new life and this profound shift in purpose has been a lonely process.

Choosing to stop being a living crutch for people is uncomfortable. However, I realized that by constantly rescuing the people in my life, I was actually getting in the way of their growth while completely neglecting my own chance of elevating, designing, and becoming.

I had to choose to allow them to find their own strength and be their own survivors.The moment I finally stepped back and chose myself, my world expanded. I returned to college with full focus, found my true niche within my wellness practice, and built a creative brand that is now expanding into international workshop programming.

Now, I am finally seeing life from a living, inspirational perspective. Surviving trauma taught me how to advocate for myself, but setting boundaries taught me how to live. You cannot design a beautiful life if you are constantly anchoring yourself to everyone else's storms.

Stop playing small just to keep your circle comfortable. You have to learn to be your own support system first.

#Trauma #MentalHealth