The past few years were hard for me. Like a game of Tetris, the foundation of my identity came tumbling down when my dad became ill and we thought we’d lose him. I had little contact with the outside world, and spent lots of time alone. I needed to process grief, uncertainty, and unhealthy beliefs and behaviors from my past.
Grief became depression. I was unable to form a sense of who I was and of how I understood the world. I had turned to a scientific and logical view for answers, but it felt arid and soulless. Depression turned into hopelessness. In my lack of connection to myself and others I lost all footing, and soon it became hard to face each day. I sought help in therapy, but it took me deeper into the unresolved pain of my childhood.
I separated from my partner, and spent the next few months alone trying to reconnect with myself. I found new forms of therapy that strengthened my body awareness rather than my thoughts. I reunited with friends and family and shared a more vulnerable side of myself. Little by little I regained joy. I cut off my hair and gave away many of my belongings. I stopped trying to understand everything and instead let my senses lead the way.
The day the earth shook I felt that my journey into the depths of my psyche was ending. I had faced it bravely and my wound had healed. When the earth shook I ran out of my apartment. The lobby floor undulated and I fell across the hallway on my knees. For the first time in years I knew I had to get out. Life was waiting.