I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

This year has been awful. I know it’s barely been a month into the year, but it has not been great. Like I’ve written, I feel worse than the year before (if that’s even possible). I’m not entirely sure what might help either, but it feels like I’m about to isolate myself again. I’m not intentionally doing it, but I dread social interactions more than I did before and feel tired at the thought of talking to people who aren’t in the circle of five I adore. I know that this isn’t the way to live and you probably wouldn’t want me to be this way… but… this is what it is.

Yesterday I went for yoga. No need to be too happy that I’m exercising, it’s actually trauma-informed yoga that I went for. The clinic I interned at hosted this trauma-informed yoga session for a couple of clients and I thought it’d be a good experience. It was actually really interesting. Unlike regular yoga, the instructor (who is a therapist) doesn’t directly tell you what to do. She gives us options and allows us the freedom of choosing what to do. My favorite part of this is, they don’t touch you! In regular yoga sessions, or any other exercise classes, the instructor often walks around and touches you to correct your pose or use your body as an example for the rest of the class. That’s the one part I dislike about group exercise classes, so trauma-informed yoga was pretty fun. It’s supposedly really good for giving trauma survivors a sense of control and choice over their body. I think it’s something we can do in the future for others too.

Anyway, my point of that paragraph was that I had to meet some of my clinic staff again – the other intern and the supervisor. They are nicer to be around now that they aren’t taking my food or making little remarks. Seeing them reminded me of this new intern who joined us in late December. I didn’t have many interactions with him, but when I ended my holiday and came back to work for the last four days, he’d initiate conversations with me. One in particular stuck with me, and it’s something I think about every now and then.

We were alone in the clinic on Saturday, my last day, and he had seen me for four days now. At this point, he had the same knowledge of me as everyone else in the clinic – I have a boyfriend and we’ve been together for over a year. We were talking about future plans and I’d frequently mention you in our conversations. At one point, he looks at me and says, “You seem very content with life.” That took me by surprise and I didn’t manage to mask it in time. He saw my surprise, and followed with, “Oh, am I wrong then?” Instead of instantly saying “yes I am very content”, I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to say “yes” because I am not. I hate my life now, but they don’t know that because they think you’re alive. And I didn’t want to say “no” because they think you’re alive and if you are, there’s no reason for me to say “no”. It was almost a minute of silence, him just staring at me, before I said, “I mean, yeah, I am but I’d like to think that life will get better when my boyfriend and I achieve the things we want. So yes and no, I guess?” I kind of saved it pretty darn well, didn’t I? He didn’t question it and said, “Yeah, if I could find a partner, I’d be quite content too.”

I keep replaying this conversation in my head, especially after any sort of social interaction with people who I’m not really close to. I ask myself if I seem really content and happy from their perspective. If I do, and they know what happened, I think they’d think I’m coping really well. If they don’t know what happened, they’d likely think I’m just really happy with life. I’m starting to think I could actually win an award for acting.

It’s quite a tough position to be in – wanting to mask your emotions but also feeling a sense of frustration that comes with masking. I know I don’t have to, but I do it because I’d feel bad if I made anyone else feel worse. And anyway, isn’t there a saying that goes “fake it till you make it”? Can’t say I like that saying, but it seems to be what I’m doing lately.

I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha