Only in these recent months have I been feeling like my real self, energetic with a go-getter attitude and a strong appetite for human connections, books, and creating artwork just as I've done all my life. The therapeutic process of crafting images where there were none has been so essential to my own self-awareness and has helped me cope with everything that troubles me.
I am currently in a recovery process after having suffered from and been diagnosed with Anxiety, Depression, passive suicidal ideation, and ADHD. In late 2019, I began to burn out, having to balance
my student loans, living on my own away from my parents for the first time, paying rent and cooking meals, and thinking daily of my deceased aunt.
I was just as old as she was when she passed, 19 years into her youth with so much left ahead of her. Roxana was a victim of feminicidio, raped on campus, and stabbed several times. She was an individual with dreams and aspirations all taken away by one man who saw none of that in her. Sometimes, I felt as if I was her second chance being that my dad very often told me how much I reminded him of her. She and I share a fighting spirit and the same hunger for knowledge and books, only I have more opportunities and privileges living here in the US. My dad worked tirelessly to leave Mexico City ever since he lost her, dreaming of safety for our family above all else. I became almost paranoid during my first year of college, however, walking to my apartment alone every night fearing I may suffer a similar fate to that of my aunt I had been compared to so much.
I also began to realize that despite my artistic level and passion for my work, I was drastically falling behind. No matter the fact that I spent every waking moment dedicated to my school projects, drawing while eating, and only having dreams where I would be working on my assignments, I was unable to catch up and I began to feel like something was fundamentally wrong with me. The frustration ate away at me and the shame was too much to bear. Towards the end of my first year in college, I would stay home, refusing to meet with friends out of the overwhelming embarrassment, instead looking through my window at the neighbor's cats that would visit my back garden. It was all I had the energy for in those days. Time would melt into itself as I stared at the misplaced plank on the wooden floor path. It revealed a hole in the dirt in which the cats loved to nest inside on those warm afternoons. I desperately wished with every fiber of my being that I could crawl into that hole and disappear with them, letting the earth swallow me and the time pass me by eternally. I no longer had the energy or want to create any artwork, I was no longer myself.
Upon returning to live with my parents as the pandemic hit, I wanted to hide how much I had changed. I was afraid of the grief and disappointment I would cause them. They had worked so hard to get us to the US and to give me the opportunities and safety that my aunt Roxana didn't have. I felt I had wasted it and that I was becoming a burden, even telling my father at one point that I hadn't killed myself because I didn't want to leave him my student loans. Not knowing what was wrong with me during those two years, lacking the multiple diagnoses I needed, was the most worthless and helpless I had ever felt. I was surprised, however, to find that when I opened up to my parents and my friends, the response was nothing short of compassion, love, and even admiration. I was met with understanding and support as I cried for months in their arms, melting away my shame. I was able to get in contact with a psychiatrist that validated my experience and assured me of multiple solutions. I was referred to a therapist, given temporary medication to calm my initially big anxiety attacks, and provided with strategies to help me tackle things from breathing to planning the next steps for my career.
If I could title this chapter of my life now, I would call it "Oh, there you are again". With the help of my family and my friends, old as well as new ones, I have since rebuilt my relationship with art, transferring to a major that suits me better and being invited to work on my upper classmates' capstone animation projects. I am learning to cook more complex and fun recipes from my friends and am now working on building sustainable ways of maintaining both my mental health as well as my physical health to prevent myself from falling into those old unhealthy habits, making sure that I'm sleeping well, eating three meals a day paired with fruits and other healthy snacks, going on hikes and scenic adventurous road trips with friends, and dancing barefoot with my roommates. I feel I have found myself again and I missed being that bubbly person, so eager to try new things and always looking forward to what the future has in store.