I have almost reached the end of my first semester at university. I was studying a BA in Social Policy but I have now changed my major to Sociology. I just have two exams to do for this week coming and then.... fuck, yes! I have finished my very first semester at university! And a very memorable one at that too, with the pandemic and the eventual complete lockdown of New Zealand - borders and all - for one month. This meant a lot of changes and a lot of extensions for the structure of the workload, and I know that most, if not all, students have struggled with this. Particularly if they're like me, doing my first semester. It's been hard, I won't lie. Especially when you're stuck at home with the kids 24/7, for the longest month in your life, and still have three assignments to hand in at the end of the lockdown period. I honestly don't know how I managed, and my marks reflected this in a way, but I very quickly reached the point that it didn't matter what grade I got, as long as I completed it on time. I felt a bit like that fat kid doing the dreaded cross country.... fat, wheezy, tired, but stubborn as hell. I was going to finish this damn race.
And now, I can see the finish line. Just.
However, I am also at a low point in my mental health at the moment. Not a low low point, just feeling a bit tired and fuzzy. I expected this, and am aware of it. I have been literally running on fumes, adrenaline and pure stubborness the last few weeks in completing what I needed to finish, ticking all the t's and crossing all the i's so that I have finished all the learning requirements in order to pass (just barely, I feel) each of the three courses. In between dealing with children who weren't coping with yet more changes on starting school again at pandemic Level 2 with the restrictions on contact, and I also started back at work at the cafe for two days a week, both in the kitchen and on the coffee machine. Yesterday, I wasn't feeling so flash. Plus I had a house that looked like an hurricane went through it, tried to come back to wreak more havoc then decided that it wasn't worth it. So, I dropped the twins off to their dad's, came home, and cleaned. I cleaned all day.
It was good to have that done. I did a lot of thinking while cleaning, too.
It is such a Kiwi mannerism for us to say "Hey, you okay?" or just "Okay?" Simple, yet we also feel that we have to reply with "I'm fine." or an over-the-top "Yeah I'm wonderful!" and deflect back on to them. Why? Is it so ingrained in ourselves that we must not let on how we truly feel? I mean, when did it become not okay to not feel okay? Is it not polite to say "No, sorry, I feel like absolute shit. And I'll tell you why..." Are we so bad at minimising how we feel, afraid that others will turn off because they think how we feel isn't valid and is just a diatribe of things that make us feel bad?
Well, let's see. I'll now tell you HOW I feel, right now. I'm okay. I had a good child free night's sleep and a sleep in. But yesterday and last night, I felt low. I felt lonely. I hadn't made any plans for my child free night and while I wished I had, I also didn't want to. I just wanted to be by myself and yet I'd have liked someone to just turn up and visit me? I'd worked three days this week, and also handed in an assignment that I'd asked for an extension on, started my exam prep (including two short essays for one of the exams), I'd also had to deal with a six year old child whose horrible and hurtful behaviour has started back up since they restarted school, we all also had colds during the week. I was also thinking a lot about the BLM concerns happening globally at the moments, of what I can do to ensure that my children and I are anti-racist. What can I, a Pakeha woman, do to ensure that everybody is equal in this country and to have an awareness and knowledge of our own privilege as white people and to be aware of colonialism in this country. I was also worrying (in hindsight) that I was being ghosted by somebody and I was examining why I feel there's so much that is wrong with me that I'm not capable of being liked or loved in return, why I feel that I put in the effort to gain nothing back. I overthink stuff too, as you can obviously see here. All of these things combined may seem like nothing to you and that it's just me being a whinger, but it's a lot for me to deal with. I own my feelings, my own mental health, and all that I feel is valid. Just as yours is.
Weekly roundup of all my meds today, I hate this damn pill box. All these small and, probably insignificant to you, pills are essentially what I'm on so that I can live. Each day, I take 4x Venlafaxine, 1x Mirtazapine, and of course , the fish oil (I'll detail another time what this does for me)... all this is so that I can function day in and day out, as a productive member of society. Do I rely on these? Yes, I do. Because I am not okay. I say this because I was once told by a supposedly close friend that I needed to "stop" being depressed, and that I am actually okay. This sticks. It's always those small things that stick to you, long after.
To conclude this rambling korero, it is okay to not be okay. Remember this. And if anybody tells you otherwise, let me know and I'll go batshit on their ass.
Dall
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