Quiet for too long

It’s funny how just a few days ago, before everything, I was just looking at some of my old posts on a few anonymous platforms and forums. Stuff that I asked advice for anonymously but haven’t really talked about publicly, stuff that I might have touched briefly on or drunk-babbled to a select few people, but never dived deep into. Not with a single soul. None.

In one particular thread dated May 2019, I asked for advice on how to tell a loved one about a specific fear (sorry for vagueness) as it’s something I wanted to do before taking the relationship further. I’m not sure what made me look at that post again as it was from over a year ago but maybe it’s because I’ve been thinking about the (unhappy) past again.

All these thoughts weren’t triggered by anything but at the same time, they have never really gone away. I just assumed that I could move past them, and because I was happy and contented in 2019, I did not think much about them again. Until recently.

But it’s interesting to note how in the thread, the advice from everyone was pretty much the same: That I need to see a therapist or seek counselling to work through my issues properly, that a relationship is not a fix etc. So that night while looking through the old thread, I wondered if maybe they were right. Because some things happened years ago and I still can’t get them out of my mind.

Truth is, I am dying to say something so that maybe people can finally understand. All those years of downward spiralling and self-destruction were more than just a lost love or a broken heart. The truth behind all that pain. The one thing that made me think everything else that followed was normal (none of it is normal or okay).

Although I never spoke about it directly, I feel like there were hints in my writing and blog posts. Maybe I feel that way because I am the one writing. But now I am starting to realise that people either didn’t get it or forgot or idk?? After all, I was talking in circles and references and metaphors a lot because deep down I was still afraid to say anything at all.

All those old posts about my fixation with calories and being thin, including one where I hinted at struggling with a disorder (I am starting to feel ok about opening up about this because it pales in comparison with the other stuff). My penchant for certain kind of books (seems like someone noticed this though). My mentions of a 3,200 word essay about The Worst Thing That Happened To Me.

Or more recently, my thinly-veiled movie review. I wonder if anyone bought it; that it was just a movie review and nothing more. I am not that good of a writer actually and I don’t think it’s possible to write that POV unless you have been in similar shoes, I wrote it because I wanted, needed to say something so badly but am still afraid to.

I am not sure if my 3,200 word essay will ever see the light of day. At that point, I came very close to posting it publicly here but eventually changed my mind. I don’t want to deal with the reaction or whatever. I just want to stop feeling so silenced but I don’t know If I will ever be brave enough. I wish I had a Chanel Miller or Ronan Farrow to help me.

Anyway, I’m not trying to gain sympathy or what from this post and it has nothing to do with anyone else or anything that happened these few days. Like I said, it has been on my mind for awhile recently (enough for me to publish that movie review earlier this month).

I hate how I can’t even bring myself to talk about it unless I am writing about it anonymous, privately or using vague hints. So many thoughts. On and on and on.