2016 in Review

          Here we are, at the end of December, ready to say Goodbye to the year of 2016. I think this is a Goodbye that most of us all are very eager to say. 2016 has been a mess, I've gone through a lot of shitty times, yet, there were some pretty awesome things that happened too. And now, it's time to look back and reflect on the year, so we can look forward and into 2017 with no regrets.

          If I can describe the year of 2016 in a word, it would be "Woke". That's right, 2016 has been a year where I feel like I finally blossomed as a Feminist. I began to be serious with what I want to advocate for and I love activism ! I know that I still have lots to learn, but it's a good start. It also has be woke for a lot of people too. With so much drama and violence that happened, people finally realized that yes rape culture exists, homophobia and transphobia exists, racism...etc.

          January - Started 2016 with fabulously new dyed Pink hair !

          February - Slayed at my high school's Semi-Formal dance wearing a FABULOUS sequined mini-dress. That's right, MAMA WERKED IT.

          March - May (Nothing much happened, or that I could think of...)

          June - Orlando Shooting. May All Rest In Power.

                  - I came out as Transgender !

          July - My FIRST EVER Pride ! Also, I started to train myself in Dance.

          August - Summer Bible Camp. What can I say, I SLAYED.

          September - School ! Last year of High School... Birthday was okay, I became a Dance Minor in my school's Arts Program.

          October - LGBTQ+ History Month, my big step into Activism. Stress.

          November - Meh. Ugh. Help. Got Accepted into London College of Fashion though !

          December - Shitty. What is happening.

          Now, who's ready to leap into the year of 2017 !? You know, bad things happen, and good things happen. It's just unfortunate that 2016 went downhill for a lot of people. We never know what 2017 will be like or how we'll handle it after this year, but we need to have hope. And we'll have each other. Happy New Year, and Stay Fabulous !

It Was In Grade 6...

          So... this is a story, a memory that I thought I would never want to share publicly on this Blog. I've only referred to this incident before in the Blog Piece "Til It Happens To You" as a way to spread awareness for Sexual Assault. I have shared and wrote just about everything of myself here, my past, my family, my journey through questioning...etc. I mean, of course I have not gone into details with my family because I think they deserve some privacy, but with major events that just involve specifically me, I've shared. I'm an open book ! I've always took pride in that. And what I'm about to share in detail, is something actually I have forgotten for a long time. I don't know why I forgot about it, why my brain kept it locked up. Yet I only started to remember that it happened years later in Canada telling my friends about my past experiences.

          I don't know why I want to share this. I just think that I'm ready, and I think of this Blog as a place where I can let things go, to let my past free. If I can write it, I'm over it. If I can write it, I can start to heal. If I can write, I can recover. And again, I was not raped, I don't think of myself as a greater victim than anyone else who have been assaulted or harassed sexually, but it's just something horrible that I went through.

          It was in Grade 6, when I was in Malaysia. I was innocent, I didn't know anything about sex, pleasure, or what sexual organs do. They don't really teach about sexual and personal health in Asia. But anyway, I was bullied like everyday. It was bad. All the boys from my class would beat me up, call me names like "faggot", "gay", "fatty"...etc. Those, I remembered. What I forgot was how on one particular day, something happened in the washroom. I walked in, and there they were, everyone were there hanging out at the beginning of lunch just right after class had ended. They made fun of me, and I stood up for myself. Well, what happened next was that they all started to beat me up, usual stuff. Yet something weird was that they all surrounded me. A few just kept kicking me, but some punched my back so that I fell down to the ground on all fours. Then two of them started to take turns dry humping me from behind. I remembered everyone laughing and saying that I would "like it because I'm a faggot." I didn't know why they were doing that or what they meant at the time, I just focused on how painful the punches and kicks felt. After they were done, they left and locked me in the washroom, I missed lunchtime that day, and I remembered crying a lot. It wasn't rape, but it was sexual assault, apparently so traumatic that my brain didn't let me to remember it until now in Canada. Maybe It's better that I didn't understand what they meant, maybe it's better that I forgot about it for so long, so that it was less impactful, less traumatizing I guess...

          I was telling my friend about Malaysia, talking about all the bullying that I used to experience. And when I started to remember this, I was shaking. I think that maybe the only impacts it has on me is the way I interact with men - how I'm more defensive and guarded with them, and how uncomfortable I feel about my body sometimes. I feel myself being angry to boys that remind me of the bullies in my past. Boys that make me feel less of myself, and don't see me as the woman that I am. The sad thing is, I believed them, because I didn't think I deserve better.

I was in Grade Six.

Their Hands were holding me down, and

Their Hips were thrusting me from behind.

I was clothed, yet

I was more naked than ever.

Their Penises were their Egos.

They thought, 

That conquering me, 

Taking my "Manhood" away, 

Stripping away my Power, would 

Make them the "Real Men". 

Yet. For me, 

It was a moment of Truth. 

Stripped away of my dignity, my pride, and my power, 

I blossomed. 

I realized, that I will never be a man. 

That I need to become the woman that I meant to be. 

That my penis is different. 

My Penis is not my Ego, yet like Flowers, 

they blossom of Humbleness. 

My Penis is not my Ego, yet like Diamonds, 

they strengthen through Love. 

My Penis is not my Ego, yet like Pearls, 

they shine with Purity and Grace. 

I am a Woman. 

          I am a Woman, and I will never ever, let anyone, let any man, tell me otherwise. I will not allow anyone, any man, make me think otherwise. To anyone who have been through any form of sexual assault, please remember that it's your body. It is your body. It may feel like it's not, but it is. When you're ready, claim it back, and remember. Remember that you are not defined by what they think, what they do, and what they say. That we deserve to feel like a whole person, that we are nothing less than beautiful. That we are meant to shine like the stars, that we are no less perfect than the sun. That we deserve to love the world, and that we deserve to love ourselves.

Merry Christmas 2016

          It's Christmas ! Happy Holidays to all, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, I wish to send love and care to all during this Winter Holiday.

          And yet, I want to remind all that some may not be having a good time during this joyful holiday, some may have nothing or no one to celebrate for and with. It's time like these that can make people the loneliest. I for one, am not celebrating Christmas this year. Well, my family doesn't celebrate Christmas really since it's not part of our culture, we only do something to "experience" Canada. Every year, we usually will go to a party thrown by my mother's friends, but the one friend that hosts is away, so we have nothing to go to. We're going out for lunch and that's it, no gifts, no decorations, nothing big or extra. I'm also not in a great shape to really celebrate anything, I'm still stressed and trying to get myself out of all the things I'm behind in for school. These two weeks will only be a break from school, but not from school work at all.

          I mean, even on Christmas eve, my family spent our whole day on our laptops and phones, we didn't even speak ! I can't blame them, because I used the day to finally finish the Glimore Girls on Netflix. I'm just sad because I've always been the one trying to do stuff, forcing my mom to drive us places, making us do stuff with each other. I used to be the one getting frustrated when no one spoke at dinner. Yet, I've given up. I've began to like spending time alone but it's just... lonely. 

          Well, that's it for that. I'm sorry if you're all sad now because of this. Be happy, celebrate, and have fun ! Remember what this holiday is about, and spread joy, love, and care.

Loving Myself when Depressed.

          How can one love oneself when Depressed ? Well, can you really ? Yes, of course you can ! It will just take practice, and time. Self-Love is always a journey.

          My therapist said to me, 

"When You're struggling with Depression, You need to be even more compassionate with yourself, more forgiving. Give yourself some credit for even getting out of bed, or getting dressed...etc."

          It seems like an easy thing to do, but it's not. I find it extremely difficult to have Self-Compassion, to forgive myself, to cut myself some slack...etc. So maybe I thought, if I record this journey here, I'll be more hopeful, seeing my progress. Yet firstly, I do want to apologize, to those readers that may not wish to read about my Mental Health journey. I know that I use to write about more fun things, like boy crushes, relationships' dramas...etc. Now, it's just me.

          I drag my body to school, but I'm not able to concentrate in class. I feel anxious, sad, and tired. I just want to drop out of school, and sleep. I don't want to see my friends, and I feel like everyone is disappointed in me. I no longer find joy in extra-curricular activities, but I'm still there. I feel like a zombie, just dragging myself to places where I need to be, yet not being able to feel anything. I feel like I'm not talented and not smart enough, and I'm angry of how behind I am with class work. I start to not see a purpose in school anymore... 
          Now, that's a typical day for me at school. How can we turn it into something more encouraging and self-loving ? Okay. First of all, I actually got myself out of bed, dressed, and I went to school. That's an accomplishment. It is. It is for me. And if I forced myself to go to activity clubs, and engage with social activities (faked or not). That's another accomplishment. I did something. Also, yes I'm behind in school work, but I'm trying my best to catch up, even if I finish one assignment a week, that's still something. Anything, no matter how small, is something. Finally, I need to be proud of myself that I made it through the day, that I survived another day. Tomorrow will be a new day, a new challenge, and I'll be okay.

          I think that I've been hating myself because I have Depression, thinking that because I've driven people away, because I'm struggling, I'm not being a "good person". Yet, I should love myself even more now because I have Depression. I shall even love my Depression. I don't know how much love I'll need, but I know that I need it. And I'll start by learning how to be more forgiving and compassionate with my own self. It's not perfect nor is it easy, but it's a start. 

Loving Someone with Depression.

          I... am Depressed. And as difficult as it is, it's also difficult to love someone with Depression. I, for one, can very much understand how hard it is as my mother struggled with Depression. To witness someone you love and care so much about, going through their worst, and see how they are isolating themselves, trying to push you away, is heartbreaking. Sometimes it's easy to get angry even. It can start to feel hopeless.

          I think that because I've witness my mother, I understand how difficult it is for those around me as well. I can see how frustrating and how helpless they feel. And I'm sorry, because I'm not able to the one to help them, not when I'm this unstable myself. I also think that people don't know how to deal and help those with depression. People don't understand what we go through, and what we need, what we don't need...etc. And I can say this, because I didn't understand my mother, I didn't know what she needed, I didn't know how to help her. Now looking back, I wished I could have done a lot of things differently.

          Look, it hurts. It hurts not getting it. It hurts not being able to understand. It hurts. But, there's nothing you can do to fix me. There's nothing you can do to make me happy. I know how hard and difficult it is to be friends with me, especially when I'm like this. I desperately want to make it easier for my friends, for those I love, and those who are there for me, but I can't. I can't even make it easier for myself. Right now, I can't help but to think is this going to be the deal breaker ? The deal breaker for the friendships I've worked hard on ? Like I've said in past pieces, I can't make people stay, and I won't ask them to stay. Sometimes it may be just too difficult. And if they're not able to be there for me, or if I'm not worth for them to keep fighting for, I understand.

          "Depression really does take a toll on friendships. But it helps weeding out people and seeing who sticks around." (An Interesting Quote I found)

Here are the links to some research I did, which can benefit those are struggling to love and care for someone who is suffering with Depression. (And yes, I do research before writing a blog piece, I like to know what I'm talking about. It's funny, how even when depressed, I still feel like using it as an educational moment to talk about Mental Health.) 

What Nobody Ever Tells You About How Depression Affects Your Friendships

Psych 101: When a close friend is depressed

10 things not to say to a depressed person
Why do people with depression push others away?
How to “Be There” for a Depressed Person
How to Help Someone with Depression
5 Things to Do When Someone You Love Experiences Depression

Waiting For Happiness...

          Why is it, that we're all just waiting to be happy ?

          

          I'm trying to be better, and trying to get help. I've booked a psychiatrist appointment, which is all the way in January. It's always that long process isn't it, making people feel even more hopeless. Yet I have to start now, I have to start somewhere. I can't wait for happiness anymore. All this waiting is just setting me up for another escape, I don't want to graduate high school feeling like I'm again escaping from a sad, dark chapter of my life. I want to leave this place, knowing that I can come back here, welcomed, loved, and cared. That I'll be safe, if or when I do choose to come back. 

          I've lost a lot of people along the way, and it's always because of my mental health. People give their everything to love, and to care for me. And when it gets rough, I isolate myself, losing the ability to communicate, and to reach out. They're disappointed, and they feel not wanted, and needed, so they leave, they're hurt. Yet, now I'm starting to understand my mother, who has always been struggling with depression, and she's always isolating herself, not letting me help her. I was just as concerned and frustrated. But now, I feel for her, I understand, that sometimes, it's just too difficult.

          The thing is, it's not fair. Depression isn't fair. It's not fair that we're not able to sustain a healthy relationship, that we isolate ourselves, making it so difficult for people to love and care. Yet it's also unfair to say that we deserve to be left alone, to be abandoned again, after we've already abandoned ourselves. People who leave us, who think that we need to first figure ourselves out before deserving their love, care, and attention, own the privilege to protect themselves. They hold the power to block the toxic, the harmful, the difficulties out of their life, choosing a lifestyle that we can't afford. See, this is my life. Having an alcoholic father, a depressed mother and suicidal brother, I am unable to afford such escape, such easy decision to protect myself. When you leave, because it's too hard for you to feel like you'e not helping me enough, that you don't deserve to feel hurt from trying to be there for us, it's a disappointment that's common, from the thought that we need to be fixed. We don't. Of course some people will not think that we're broken, that we need to be fixed. Yet, it's a lack of understanding and having compassion for mental health issues. People who are hurt, who are angry, of us isolating ourselves, of us not being able to feel happy, to feel calm, to communicate, to get better, are not realizing the constant struggle and hurting that we go through daily. They expect that we should be okay with the amount of love and care they have for us, that we should be better, that somehow they have the power to fill in the darkness within us. They don't understand why I still question if I'm loved, they don't understand why I still feel like I can't open up, to trust, to love, to communicate. They just don't get it. Sometimes they never will.

          I can't keep asking people to stay, because it's not fair. It's not fair to me, that I'll have to beg, for people to love, for people to show compassion, and for people to understand. I can no longer surround myself with people who don't care enough, who shows no sensitivity to my identity, who makes me feel unsafe. It's the same with happiness, I can't change people, and I can't wait for people, not anymore.