The Evolution of My Healing. It’s Ok To Fall.
Sometimes it’s wild to me how easy it is to not care about myself. I spend so much energy, time, money—just general resources—trying to stay alive. And yet, how fast I can slip into that almost-psychosis, for any reason at all. It feels like the kind of sleep where you’re still awake, snoring with your eyes wide-open, a zombie in the making.
Currently, it’s because I’ve been traveling. Perhaps this is why it’s easy to slip out of care. Well, that’s one part of it.
I’m in Australia right now, and I can’t complain when I hear of a New York polar vortex or see people’s snow selfies as they quietly freeze to death, or even talk to my friends, many of whom are quietly suffering from seasonal affective disorder. It makes me think that there is something so stifling about the winter, but also about this time of the year. Even at the other end of the earth, cascading in the bright sun, there’s a nostalgia about the beginning of the year. Or maybe it’s more a saudade (a Portuguese word for a deep emotional state of melancholia) for a new beginning.
I’m not good with change, but in the last few months so much has changed.
I broke up with my partner of many years a couple of weeks ago, and after I return to New York I will be moving out of our apartment, where we built a home together. It feels sad beyond comprehension, but weirdly this last year of acupuncture didn’t just teach me how to heal, it taught me how to be stronger. How to check in with myself, how to keep myself accountable. So, even in the throes of heartache, I feel weirdly resilient. Ok, well maybe just sometimes.
Before I left, Lisa and I discussed the checklist—things that I needed to stay on top of. Because my body is damp, it’s pretty simple: No cheese! No dairy! Take your herbs! The greatest thing about Lisa is that she doesn’t shame me into feeling bad about myself if I’ve fallen off the bandwagon temporarily. (This happens a lot!) We talk about the importance of management. Acupuncture’s goal, or anything that’s healing, isn’t supposed to restrict you. It’s supposed to aid your body to ensure that you’re always feeling as good as you can.
But, even that sometimes feels like an untouchable feat.
When I left for New York, I didn’t really leave. I escaped.
The other thing is I spent the first week in Australia at the behest of my mother’s rage, who plummeted me emotionally and psychologically in ways I didn’t know were still possible. She’s a deeply depressed, highly manipulative, very negative and critical person that hates a lot of things I am at more core. She hates the way I dress (duh), the way I eat (of course) ... and my tattoos she hates more than most things—which is saying a lot. I don’t talk about this a lot, but when I left for New York, I didn’t really leave. I escaped. It’s a long story. But, since 2016, I’ve been coming to stay with her (in the summer, my one reprieve) to “help” her, but this trip I’ve really wondered what’s the point. Are some people worth saving, especially if you know they can’t be saved?
Perhaps this why I spent the first week here being so hard on myself. I had anxiety through the roof, I wasn’t sleeping very well, I was already sad beyond comprehension and then that just made everything worse. I haven’t had a nice shit in over a week, and truly it’s beginning to really annoy me… totally on brand that that’d be what ultimately takes me over the edge. Today my mother gave me the silent treatment for reasons unknown, manhandling pots and pans, intentionally closing cupboards loudly to make a point. Of what? I don’t know. I spent the better half of the day screaming into a pillow. I feel frustrated, I feel angry. I feel mainly just sad. Sad that I never had a mother, and this is what I have to come back to even when all I want is to be cared for, to be looked after at my time of need.
But, I’ve also spent years accepting this. And I know acceptance is the only way.
I’m getting better at knowing… how to return myself back to who I am again.
So, I took today to go see Rick my kinesiologist in Sydney. After a session, he gave me needles in the four gates—so ankles, wrists, and forehead—to let the energy flow. Next week I’ve decided I’ll ask for Kidney 1, my dearest friend. I’m feeling like I’m returning to normal because I know no matter what happens on the outside, I can control how I feel on the inside. I’m not saying everyone can, I’m saying I finally know how to.
Maybe in times of inescapable pain, it’s ok to fall. Just so long as you hold yourself by a string and know your limits. I’m getting better at knowing how far I can go, and how to return myself back to who I am again. This last year of deep body and spiritual work taught me those limits. I’m lucky I’ve finally learned how to do that, at the very least.
About The Author
This guest post was authored by Fariha Róisín, a talented writer based here in Brooklyn. We are indebted to Fariha for sharing this experience. We are humbled to be in service to such a brave, strong & beautiful human and it is with great gratitude we are able to share Fariha’s writings with our community.
Fariha Róisín has written for Al Jazeera, The Guardian, Vice, Fusion, Village Voice and many others and additionally has previously written a self-care column on The Hairpin. Fariha will also soon have two books published and currently has an astrology column for them. We encourage you to discover more:
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