Theloopylululog

A promise I made to myself that I have actually kept?

I am a woman of promises. I live to make and keep promises.

It’s what I am best at – honouring promises.

You request me to be your wake up call at 2 AM? No problemo, I promise it will be done! I make sure I am up by 1 AM, squeaky clean hovering by your bed with a cup of tea and some snacks by 1:45AM, waiting for the alarm to buzz!

That’s just how I am designed. My mind won’t let me rest if I have a backlog of promises waiting to be met.

Call me mad. I just like to flip it to damn dependable.

Now, a promise I made to myself that I have honoured?

To stay alive.

No matter what.

To live life to the last drop of it dries up.

And continue doing so every. single. day.

To those who do not know me, I am a survivor.

Survived sexual abuse. Survived depression. Survivied suicide.

An identity I wear with pride.

I was abused when I was barely 12. But that didn’t stop me from choosing to put it behind and walk through life like I owned it.

Before I knew it though, depression hit. A decade later. Made itself a cosy seat on my lap and resided there for 18 long years.

I was caught like a deer in the headlights.

Until then, I hadn’t lived with an exit strategy always in place. I survived and thrived and loved life.

But after depression hit, that became my comfort zone.

Call it naivete, call it cowardice, call it stupidity; I will give you that. I was probably all of those and some. But if you have not been depressed and lived through it, you do not know that depression works with absolutes. There is no in between.

So to always stand on the ledge wanting to leap became my default mode of existence.

So anytime life frustrated me, I would hide and wallow in self pity. Ready to jump.

Anytime it cornered me, I would get all knotty and resist without actually fighting back. Ready to jump.

When push came to shove, I sought to quit. Ready to jump.

Something always stopped me at the last moment. A song. A call.

A saviour in the guise of a distraction.

I refused to seek help mainly because I didn’t know how. Quitting seemed an easier option than talking about my mental health. Especially to family.

I would walk around with the suicide helpline number everywhere but lacked the courage to call them.

I masked my inner struggles behind the wall of hyper independence.

Anyone who met me at the time thought me as super self-reliant and left me to myself, intimidated by the energy I exuded. In reality, I fervently wished someone could see through the carefully built veneer. See the sick child within. Not the fake wonder woman persona the adult me had built for herself.

Many failed attempts later, I was on the floor again. Weeping. Ready to quit in 2022.

Each time I was on the verge of quitting, I made a promise I will stick around. Give myself another chance. But they came from scarcity. I didn’t believe I was worth it.

There I was; someone who had kept every promise she had made to everyone else, not believing it was worthwhile to keep a promise I made to myself.

BUT…this time on January 26, 2022, I heard a NO.

A voice, clear as a temple bell said NO. Took me a while to realise it was ME!

As India woke up to celebrate it’s sovereignty, I woke up to my own.

I made that SOS call. Spoke to a friend. A therapist. I promised them I want to be held accountable for my own life. No more running away.

I took a vow to protect me from myself. From the games my mind played. From the emotions that were bent upon staying disregulated.

I promised myself that, no matter what I will choose life over death.

Every single time.

Every single day.

No matter who leaves or who dies, I will stay alive to all that life is offering me. Even if I am the last one on the planet. Even when the going gets too tough to breathe.

I will not quit. I will not give up.

No more running away. Only running towards life with full force, with all that I have got.

This time, I believed I was worthy of keeping the promise I made to myself. And it came from an abundant place of love, empathy and kindness.

Exactly 4.5 years later, here I am, as promised. Alive and kicking! Giving life a run for it’s money.

In hindsight, I empathise with my old self. She wasn’t naive or a coward. She was just scared she was ill equipped for life. She lacked trust. Afraid that she was beyond help. She did what she did with what she had.

I don’t judge her or criticize her for her flaws. Instead I am incredibly proud she believed in keeping promises. If not for them, I would never have known who I am and what I am capable of!