depression and paradise

I felt that I was ready to tell “publicly” a painful episode of my life, hoping that it could help other people who are going through the same thing. The last time I told a friend about it, he said, “You, Cynthia? You’re the last person this could happen to.” I believed it too! But probably I had things to learn.

I deliver my experience as I lived it, so beware of sensitive souls. And yes: I’m fine now, don’t worry. How happy I am to be able to talk about it freely now, with a positive spirit, without having the tears that come to my eyes thinking about it!

 

context

At the end of the first year of Covid, I joined the benches of those affected not physically, but mentally by the pandemic . In other words, I had an episode of depression. With my motorhome, I had arrived in Utah where, with the confinement of the pandemic, it was very difficult to meet new people. On top of that, I couldn’t go see my family in France for Christmas (at the risk of losing my job and my American visa), I was no longer fulfilling myself in my work (I had given my all for zero recognition ), the whole being crowned by a tortuous, aborted and painful love story: in short, my brain has unlocked.

I who loved to eat, I lost my appetite. I had permanent urges to run away (but to go where?). When I was walking in the street to get some fresh air, I often started crying without knowing why. When I was driving on the highway, I had sudden urges to have an accident. At night, when I passed in front of houses, I felt an inner impulse that wanted me to go inside and do harm to its inhabitants.

My discomfort had turned into multiple inner monsters that scared me of myself.

Perhaps in hopes of chasing my own demons, I did a cover of the song “Monsters” on my YouTube channel . It described very well what I wanted to be told, and touched my heart when I first heard it. I expressed my feelings so well that I know some people were even disturbed by the video, finding it too “dark”. I have a friend who didn’t manage to go through with it because she felt too uncomfortable looking at it.

 

It’s true, I was trying to externalize all that I had inside of me, perhaps thus waking up other people’s monsters.

But exteriorization was not enough for me to get better.

 

One morning I woke up and spent the day on the sofa where I slept. Without getting up, without going to the bathroom, without eating, without drinking, without logging in for my job. The same evening, I called my manager and told him that I would not come this week, nor the one after. He reacted very well and told me to go see a doctor at least.

So I went to see a very understanding doctor who diagnosed me with depression using a questionnaire, then gave me a few weeks off from work to focus on myself. I had carte blanche to take care of myself.

 

I started with a three-day fast (thank you Camille for your inspiration) which reset my hormones, I walked a lot, I took the sun, I did activities that made me happy, like cooking, drawing, play the guitar.

 

The threat within

Sadly, the torturous love story kicked in two weeks later, and it’s as if all my efforts have been wasted.

Apparently everything was fine. The person whose attention I was seeking had invited me to his family for Christmas, and surely I expected him to change his mind about our relationship. But that wasn’t the case and although his whole family was great during those parties, he just ignored me all day, in his own house. (He was weird, I know, promise, next time I’ll take a more socially and mentally stable man xD but back to our story).

In addition, he hosted me in his living room, as my motorhome was too cold for me to sleep in and my few friends there had almost all left for the holidays – or were sick.

On Christmas Day, when I walked into her living room and lay down on the rug to sleep, I really thought I was going to do something stupid.

 

I remember I was trying to sleep and all I could think about was getting a knife from the kitchen and cutting my arms off. It’s as if a big conspiracy had been organized in my head to harm me physically and attract the attention of the person who rejected me. However, I knew, I had the knowledge, that it was a very bad idea , that it could only create unhealthy links. Irreversible things. I also knew that I couldn’t blame all my discomfort on an outside person. It was up to me to heal myself, and no longer be emotionally dependent on someone who rejected me. (yes, already at the time I was aware of all that!)

In short, I had no conscious desire to hurt myself, but it’s like those inner monsters are back and pushing me when I don’t want to.

There really was a dichotomy in my brain and I had to fight extremely hard not to give in to the wrong side.

That’s why I say, don’t judge people who hurt themselves – it’s NOT conscious, and NO, they’re NOT cowards. Generally, they don’t even know that this dichotomy in their brain exists, and that they have power over it. It’s almost a survival reflex, animal, abrupt, which comes to them, conditioned by many things that have happened before.

I think what helped me spot this inner dichotomy was my tendency to think and rethink everything before I act in general. I was looking for solutions to my mental problem, while struggling with this problem. It’s like being the general and the soldier at the same time on the battlefield.

 

I started by calling my parents, who were completely destitute (the poor). Then when the call was over, I tried to remind myself that I didn’t want them to be sad. I tried to imagine their sadness if I did something spontaneously stupid and I told myself that it would be really stupid, and that it was really worth fighting for.

So that evening, it was the battle of theory (my knowledge) against practice (the brain acting up). And finally, it was poetry that saved me – it’s a long story that I will probably write later in a book. But to sum up, I took my blanket, my cushion, and I slipped into the room of the one who was hosting me (and whose attention and love I was looking for), discreetly. Then I fell asleep right on the bottom of his bed, peacefully this time, the monsters having gone into my head just by his mere presence.

The next day he was surprised but he didn’t say much. The following days went a little better, and I stayed in the living room this time. (I wasn’t going to harass him either!)

 

Look for links elsewhere

Generally speaking, I’m known as a super optimistic girl, I love to lift people’s spirits and tell them what’s possible, to follow their dreams, all that. So I thought that if I confided in someone about what was happening to me, people would no longer have the same image of me. I was afraid to confide, even in my close friends. I didn’t think anyone would understand the absurd thing that was happening to me: an optimistic girl who had a bout of depression .

At best, it seems to me

– “But you’re living a dream life, it’s just a little soft, it’ll pass!”, and I couldn’t answer:

– “Well I also hope it will pass, but last night I almost cut my arms, so what do I do?”

 

This whole thing of depression and unreasonable attachment was a really big blow to my ego because I thought I had reached my “heaven” by buying my motorhome six months earlier to live and travel in. I was sharing loads of posts on social media showing how cool my new life was – with all the hashtags to go with it, #vanlife, #rvlife… And maybe some of the readers here were even jealous. Here, re-reading my article, I even wrote: “the solo life is beautiful”. HAHA. In the short term, sure.

But I had overlooked an important point: social, physical, present, diverse, positive ties. I was wrong about what happiness really is.

 

Understanding this, I understood that I had to change my environment .

I don’t remember who, but someone once said in a nice Instagram post: if you feel like leaving this life, it doesn’t mean you want to END your life. It just means that there are things in your current life that you don’t want anymore. So: leave your current life, and start a new one.

 

I understood that I had to go to a place where it would be easier for me to create new positive relationships . I had to end my present life, and start another. I’ve been thinking about going to Hawaii for a while now – especially thanks to the confinement, the plane tickets were cheap. I had originally planned to wait for my friends to come with me, but there with this episode, I had a moment of revelation like “Oh and then damn, we’re tired of waiting for others to be happy “. Result, in three days I bought my ticket, moved my things from the motorhome, and hop on New Year’s Eve I was in Honolulu. I didn’t know anyone , but I imagined it would be easier to meet people my age on a beach than in a snowy park in confinement! I really felt it was the right decision. Too bad for the camper, too bad for the man I wanted.

 

The Ambulance of Angels

During the whole preparation of this move – barely two days! – I felt transported by the angels. Everything went incredibly perfectly in a very short time: finding a place to park the motorhome for the coming months; find a company that does its wintering; buy the latest cover at the store to protect it from the weather; book the covid test; to pack ; empty the fridge; buy the ticket.

On the plane crossing the Pacific, I felt… like in an ambulance. I could have died and been transported to heaven to find rest, I think I would have felt the same. Even when upon arrival I found that my AirBnB had been canceled and I had nowhere to go and sleep, I felt at peace.

I thought I was just going to sleep on the beach and then there you go.

Luckily, I didn’t make that mistake of isolating myself again. The angels guided me out of the airport to another young girl who was joining a hostel, with whom we shared the Uber. Speaking to the managers on arrival, there was definitely ONE free place left in the hostel. What a miracle, at the last moment on New Year’s Eve!

 

A rebirth

Lo and behold, I had literally arrived in “heaven on earth”: the islands of Hawaii. Glad I didn’t have to die to get there! I didn’t really know what to expect, other than the postcard cliché: beaches, sand, volcanoes, turquoise waters, a warm climate. I asked myself the question: would the landscapes alone be enough to define this place as “paradise”?

As the following weeks progressed, I was finally able to create new social ties that I had sorely missed this past year. In a youth hostel, you are in a dormitory, which allows you to bond very quickly with the other people in your room. That, combined with time spent outdoors hiking on towering peaks, sunrise, sunset, under the stars, under rainbows, through rainforest, on deserted beaches, was a perfect combo. for my mental fitness.

 

Like a paradise.

Really.

 

Several times, I joked to my new friends: “Are you sure we’re not already dead?… This place is too good to be true. If I have to repeat this day for eternity… I will be truly happy. »

Lots of people asked me “So, when are you going back to the continent? And your motorhome? »

My answer was simple: “To go where? To meet who? »

 

It should also be added that in Hawaii, there is this kind of “island vibe” which makes people generally rather relaxed, and I think that the sun gives everyone a good dose of vitamin D!

 

Conclusion

I learned an important lesson: my paradise, my well-being, is defined by the quality of the relationship with the people with whom I spend my time . Location plays a part, of course, but even the best motorhome trip is worthless without someone positive to share it with.

Afterwards, I saw the doctor again (remotely), who took the depression test again and told me that I could go back to work. I stayed in Hawaii for six months to, among other things, continue to rebuild myself.

 

At the time, when I wrote the first version of this article (I didn’t feel ready to share it yet, because of vulnerability), I wrote: “The must, of course, is when I I will be able to see my family again. But in the meantime, I am learning to recreate a positive social life, and a good balance in life.”

I think I succeeded, honestly. It is worked every day, but there is a big difference with last year already. I’m grateful for all the friends I made in Hawaii and stay in touch with even today. I am grateful for my exceptional roommates, with whom I felt like family every day (despite the beginning when I was often skeptical of their kindness). For all the new people I spent quality time with, military, musicians, hikers, artists, yogis, chess players, passing travelers, students, other digital nomads, even if we didn’t necessarily keep in touch.

 

I also found another job afterwards with a better manager, and I was able to see my family again when the borders with France reopened.

To say that I almost missed it all.

 

I’m grateful that I didn’t give up, and that I took care of myself as soon as possible. Life is made up of so many beautiful things, and beautiful people, that it’s just too stupid to stop in front of a big rock in the way and bang your head on it hoping it will move.

It is better to take another path, sunnier, and above all: without large stones.

 

—–

If necessary :

European suicide hotline : 15 and 112

USA Suicide Hotline : 1-800-273-8255

Go see your doctor, go to a friend’s house, to a hostel, anywhere (if it’s sunny it’s better); try changing at least ONE variable in your current life.

We all deserve to live and be happy.