Life Chronicles

Written by Elexus Liggins | Edited by Jamie Wills

Section 1: Personal Note About My Sentiments To This Topic

An ode to my fragile anxious spirit, you have long awaited the moment I would mend your wounds like a mother who tends to you when in sickness. This tender spirit of mine was being chased and had been running for years, frantically looking in both directions from the danger that was to come. The anxiety consumed me like a snake devouring its prey until I was egregiously asphyxiated. Trapped in limbo, desiring something to passively happen to me that would be permanent and yearning for a love of life with an abundance of joy. It has caught up to me now. The enlightenment of life has rescued that ol’ spirit of mine. I must thank my soul for learning how to release me from the shackles of survival and helping me regain the passion and zest for life that I have always had - I owe you an eternity of gratitude.

Section 2: What Happened In This Topic

I was working for a great cause to give back to people like others have given to me. I was not aligned with the cause exactly, but I enjoyed the people I worked with and those that crossed my path then. Things were starting to get stressful at my job because I was in charge of successfully executing an event alongside my supervisor - it was our first time managing this event in a few years. This had to be done well because my livelihood was at stake- the smallest infraction would be a warning, the next maybe some sort of probation, and finally, the worst was getting fired. I literally could not afford to be fired because then I would have to worry about how I could afford where I lived and how I could pay my bills. Losing this job could render me homeless. 

My mentor then mentioned that she would like me to go to this luncheon with her at an organization that she was on the board of, which advocates for survivors of abuse. She was cognizant of asking me if I was okay with attending the event since she wanted to ensure she did not take me to an event that would trigger me intentionally. I responded with, “No, I will be fine.” When it came closer, she asked again if I would be okay to attend this event with her. I responded, “Yes, I am sure - everything will be fine.” While she was relieved at my reassurance then, I was curious why she kept asking me if I was good to go to this event. 

On the day of the event, she came to pick me up, and we headed to the luncheon. We talked and bonded like we normally did. When we got there, we got a tour of the space, starting from the gray wire fences where the introduction and the guidelines they expected us to follow were shared. They made us go to different spots, and in each station, an employee shared with us the section they were involved with and how we could help - we went from helping the children to victims of sex trafficking to families with children. The final location was the warehouse, where all the supplies ranged from baby formula, toys, and silverware. It jogged memories from being in the family shelter back in the day. One of the first points of contention was the lady telling us, “We appreciate all items donated. In addition, we encourage folks to donate things that are not about basic necessities but are geared towards enjoying life. We want our children to know that there is more to life than being in survival.” This resonated and brought nostalgia as I recalled getting excited that the things I wanted on the wishlist for Christmas were given to me. 

I remember being so excited that the Christmas donors that year made two of my wishes come true, receiving full language learning programs. I desperately desired to learn Korean and Japanese. Thanks to those donors for giving me what I wanted; it brought me joy. I still have them to this day. Hearing the lady say it definitely made me emotional. There was also an uncomfortable smell in the area that smelled like the family shelter we had stayed at. Combine those two together; those were the starter threads of opening doors I strongly sealed from my past.

My mentor and I finished the tour and sat at the table for lunch. We were watching the testimonials survivors were willing to share on the TV while we were eating. I felt sympathy for others who had gone through different tragedies and circumstances, even if some were beyond my scope of understanding. There was one story that really started to pry open that strongly sealed door from my past. A lady in her mid-30s, early-40s was sharing her story as a mother who went through domestic violence in her family with her children. If I am not mistaken, I believe that the custodial rights of her children were stripped. I think she said that she asked the organization to help her get her children back so they could reunite again. Her story moved me for sure. What she said lingered in my heart when the interviewer asked her what she would like to share with the audience watching, “One of the things that they don’t prepare you for is the trauma that occurs due to your experience. People forget to heal from that trauma and, for me, more so as a family.” My lacrimal glands were getting ready to engage.

Before leaving the event, my mentor had asked me for more details of our family story as a family that has survived domestic violence. I recall sharing with her that I did not want to have children because I felt like I had been a bad daughter, unsuitable to be a parent. I told her that I thought I was distraught on behalf of my mother, even if my mom had said that she was okay. I knew that the scars of the suffering she endured with my father would stay with her forever, and whoever she was before - a soul that smiled so brightly, laughed wholeheartedly, and looked to the world in a positive light - would still be here. My mom is a wonderful human being, a bundle of warmth armed with witty remarks and caring nature. My father robbed that beaming light by leaving her behind with an invisible and sore wound that cannot be spoken about. I remember feeling these intense emotions about things that I had not shared with anyone before. I was crying profusely here since things were compounding and coming together all at once; my unresolved childhood trauma, issues with my romantic partner, and the real impending sense of doom from executing my event well for work. 

My mentor dropped me off and told me I might consider taking the day off from work. I thanked her for her concern and was dismissive because I needed to prioritize the work waiting for me. I washed up in the bathroom and went to my desk to try to get back to work. My death glare stared point blank at the black screen of my computer. I sighed. I thought to myself, “Fuck I need help.” I called my insurance to start getting information on how to get a therapist for my mental health.

Section 3: Provide the “How” and “Why” Of this Topic

My mental health was beginning to crumble, which I had never experienced before. Besides reopening my unresolved childhood trauma, my professional life and personal life converged and imploded simultaneously. I was right in the middle of it all - pure collateral damage. From high school up until university, my anxiety levels continuously spiked. During my time in university, I always heard people having full breakdowns that were either panic attacks or something similar. Someone shared a relatable moment with me where someone recorded themselves and timed their “crying session” for about 20-30 minutes, then stopped crying and returned to work mode. I never related to anything as much as that in times like this. I tend to internalize my suffering and pain to handle it alone because I don’t want to burden others with these deep pains that hold my heart and soul hostage - not even my mom. I am awful at asking people for help when I need it, particularly emotionally, since I am emotionally sensitive.

My professional crisis reached its peak. Ultimately the build-up of feeling significantly overwhelmed, overworked, and underpaid played a part. One particular moment that reeled it in for me was when my supervisor at the time shared his frustration out loud and got up and said, “I have worked here for a few years and have held up to 4 jobs, and I am still fucking broke.” Man, that was the perfect summarization of what I felt. I had the same situation, struggling to survive as I had to side hustle to make ends meet. I knew what I signed up for when taking the job, an uber-intense month of working 70+ hours to ensure the event’s success, which took a toll on my body. I didn’t know that it would be this bad, though. In the middle of the month, I informed my supervisor that I was looking for other jobs, essentially trying to quit before the event. My boss told me he would not allow that to happen until after we completed the event. This is the response I make when things get stressful, running away altogether (not a good response at all). 

My boyfriend at the time, Dearil, was the person I would turn to for support and care, yet also the person that caused the most distress and hurt. I was unaware of how much sorrow and pain this relationship gave me as I was naively engaged in securing my goal of having a serious relationship with a guy. Thanks to this emotional rollercoaster, I constantly bounced between happiness and sadness like a ping pong ball being hit back and forth in an intense tournament. At the time, I lied by telling the therapist that everything was great with my partner and that he and everyone in my life were perfect.

After the highly stressful event, I was very fortunate to be told not to do much work after such an intense month building up to our event - so every day, I accomplished at least one work task and went home. My then-boyfriend and I had broken up after I reached my final breaking point with him. I had two weeks’ vacation that same weekend of the breakup in case this happened. And it did. I was so distraught. I fell into a massive depression and got burnt out from my job. It was a blessing in disguise.

During my two weeks vacation, I was the most unproductive person ever, as I would barely manage to eat a meal and shower. There were days I would wake up and go back to sleep - eating nothing. There were other days when I would get up, grab something from the fridge and go back to sleep without showering all day. My dishes became a mountain, and my kitchen looked a bit crazy. I could not bring myself to clean it all. It was a nuisance. Many days were spent listening to the same sad songs and sobbing. Many days were spent aimlessly watching tv and doing nothing. I was even more saddened that I had to spend my well-earned vacation time sulking at home since my car was in the shop with a problem I could barely afford. I received my bonus for work, and that had to go to fixing my car instead of me spending it freely. At that time, I wished for a real vacation. Unfortunately, those don’t happen when you are trapped in the shackles of survival because you are more worried about paying all the bills so you don’t become homeless and starve. My livelihood depended on my ability to commute everywhere in a city that almost requires a vehicle. Even though it was not the vacation or, I would rather say, the staycation I originally planned, I needed to reset from a new starting point. My body, heart, and soul got to take steps to become more grounded and inch closer to the path of healing that it never had the chance to.

Section 4: Reflection Piece - Forgiveness, Grace, Acceptance, Gratitude, and Best Wishes 

Everything that needed to happen did, even if I did not want the outcome of that circumstance. Those moments where I was trying to survive were private, and no one else knew. I had close friends and loved ones who were very supportive and helped in any way they could. For that, I am very grateful. Those intense moments were full of anguish; at times it felt like I was hanging on by a thread. The culmination of all these situations came at me sideways because I never took the time to unpack anything since I was constantly moving forward to the next goal/milestone. 

Life definitely had plans for me to get to them uniquely. Thanks to these very low moments, I was grateful for the therapist to shine the light on how the romantic entanglement was unhealthy. It led to a breakup with a lot of solidified closure. It led me to look inward and reflect deeper on my identity, negative patterns, and the best assets I possessed. It led to getting a new job where many boxes were checked off. I no longer had to side hustle to survive. Thankfully, I could take my first vacation to a city I desperately wanted to explore again.

The lesson from these profound life impacts is that you could lie to yourself all you want, but the truth will always be forthcoming, sometimes unabashedly. For all these years, I lied to myself, knowing deep down in my heart that I had more issues than I led on. Those complexities, if not taken care of in a preventative way, could culminate into something bigger and create a ripple effect. It was like the calm before the storm, and I thought it was just a downpour, but it turned out to be a dangerous tsunami that almost left me dead. I grew up constantly hearing that everybody should take care of their physical well-being, which is the most important. From what I have learned, that held some truth, however not fully. Yes, our physical health carries a lot of importance, but other factors contribute equally or sometimes more - our mental, emotional, and spiritual states. During these intense moments, I could not appreciate my non-disabled body or my privilege of being alive. I couldn't care less because I felt dead while I was alive, just not six feet under. I pulled myself out of that major funk and reinstated my spiritual, mental, and emotional state - was it perfect? No. Did I do it? Heck Yes. Prioritizing your mental health and other factors of your well-being is paramount to your experience here on earth. I now know that healing is not always linear because of the ebb and flow of life. But I know that doing nothing about your wellness can be quite detrimental. I truly wish you all the compassion, forgiveness, and grace I now give myself for my past self. I am still healing and will never stop.

Much healing to you,

Elexus Liggins