“…I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you…” – A Great Big World
Dear Fellow Warrior,
I am sorry I have not been able to check in for the past few weeks.
I definitely wanted to be able to write to you at the end of Suicide Prevention Month.
But I apologize I could not.
I have been trying to keep up with some of my indie writing efforts on Medium as well… HERE.
Partly to continue to try to find you and my tribe overall…
I still struggle with different types of “paralysis” from time to time, that impact my creative writing passions.
There are certain pieces of writing that make me stuck because I want them to be perfect; so it slows down my process.
I am now reading a lot of books about beating procrastination…Or attempting to read.
But I know it will all lead to addressing one serious problem that has held me back for so long: My ongoing chronic Depression and all relevant health challenges.
That’s the thing. I’m still fighting.
But does that mean it should be used against me?
I still deserve success, love, opportunities, friends, and generally a life, don’t I?
Has being open about my illness to fight stigma caused more damage to my dreams and ambitions than it has helped?
Like I’ve inquired again and again, isn’t it better to be open, honest, authentic, and speak our truth?
It is interesting when I think about my DC experience as my 15-year anniversary is coming this Wednesday.
And when I think about the experience of so many academics.
I know at least a third of the inhabitants of DC, have faced depression or suicidality or anxiety. I know at least half of the academics out there have faced this in some way, sometime during their academic tenure.
So many suffer from depression. I have stated this numerous times before.
When it comes to Suicide Prevention, it is becoming clearer by the day, the powerful stigmas…. the inconvenient truths.
I find myself feeling empathy and compassion for others, with all I’ve struggled with and continue to struggle with.
Even those who have harmed me so much and taken a great deal from me.
I find myself so hurt, angry, and in pain knowing the level of injustice I endured… from loved ones, from friends and colleagues who I thought I could trust.
But even throughout all that… I have empathy. I have compassion for most if not all of them.
Some people have done transgressions that are impossible to forgive. You can forgive, for yourself, for your own peace, at some point, let go, but you don’t have to forget. You don’t have to keep those individuals in your life who are clearly there to harm you, or choose to stick with their fixed mindset and misunderstandings about you, and not evolve with you.
I have the right to feel angry and frustrated.
But I need to put all my energy in my getting my life back on track…
And I have been trying so hard… with all the energy I have… but I need to try harder.
But I find myself unable to let go of something… I never got closure…
It just isn’t fair how misunderstood I’ve been.
I think about how much the expression of my pain online, in my personal networks, politically and socially could be or may have been used to discredit me and all my life’s work and in every domain.
You don’t really care about my story do you?
I’m transitioning. I’m coming to terms with this understanding. I’m trying to stay empowered.. trying to put the mask on… trying to live for others and not only for myself…trying to write in service to others and not just to share my story…
But…
What do I have then, if I don’t have my story?
Balance is key. I’ll find it. I’m getting there.
I started this blog post at the beginning of the week, when I felt like giving up.
I stared at my bottle of Zolpidem and said to myself… this is it. This is here. Just in case…. an option.
I’ve done that more this year than any other year. I have found a way out.
Why does it always have to be this black and white…. life or death… when things get really really difficult?
In any case, I end this week with a smile… hanging on to whatever sliver of hope I can to keep moving. And on World Smile Day. As I wrote HERE.
Today, I actually shared something so important to me, on how I fought through my suicidality, and I got crickets from my personal networks.
I just wonder. I cannot be that uninteresting, that invisible that people ignore or unfollow my posts now. All those who know …know me and my struggle, how is it possible that no one checks in on me now… none of my “friends”? Family? All these years, all these posts, all these poems and pieces, nothing clicked? No one is there at all to ask me, Elsa, are you okay, how is your mental health? Even how are you doing?
Sometimes I wonder if I never posted on social media, if I never contacted people myself, would anyone really even try to contact me or stay in touch with me?
Am I really the one who has to be the big person in all of my relationships: familial, professional, collegial, friendship, etc.? The suicidal survivor suffering with OCD, PTSD, GAD, MDD, processing deep-seated traumas, and enduring significant economic and personal hardships?
My gosh, Allah has given me a mega mega mega test of epic proportions for “building my character and attaining mastery over my thoughts and actions.” (As Gandhi puts it). And it is so hard.
I am a great person with a big heart and with a lot of untapped talent and potential. I now know this about myself and can say this confidently, as my truth. It is sad and unfortunate how unlucky I have been on so many fronts. But it is time I work harder to reframe these traumas, study and apply the concept of “anti-fragility,” and keep growing.
In any case, it seems that my life is being structured in such a way that I cannot be the kind of person to have an ego… I can feel something pulling me… teaching me… trying to tell me something…
I know that this messenger is telling me to surrender… but not to the voices trying to convince me to call it quits to my existence.
It is leading me somewhere better… more peaceful. There will be jihad before getting there. And I won’t ever be fully present there. It is not a tangible or physical space. There may be an element of mysticism I am accessing here… or maybe it was always there… suppressed.
And perhaps if I continue to write to you, I will figure it out. With you…
“And I … will stumble and fall… I’m still learning to love… just starting to crawl…”
I am not giving up on you, dear Warrior.
I hope you won’t give up on me either.
In Solidarity, Peace, warmth, and blessings,
Your Sister,
Dr. Elsa
Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus
Please support suicide prevention:
Here is my fundraiser for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention this year:
https://supporting.afsp.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&participantID=2827039
I have linked this now on Facebook too: https://www.facebook.com/donate/1346125822974339/
Thank you so much for reading, engaging and giving my voice a chance!
Please feel free to follow, share my work, and/or learn more about me here. I also welcome feedback and discussion. Thank you for your support and wish you well on your writing and artistic journey!
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