What it feels like, to finally feel whole.

My entire life, I’ve run after the future. Ten years ago, I used to say, “It’s okay if I’m unhappy because when I’m healed, I will be happy.” There was always something missing from my life: a good relationship, financial stability, a fulfilling career, mental stability… One solution would come into view, and another problem would appear. One project would be completed, and another one needed to see the light of day. One trauma would resorb, and another one would surface. There was always something to work on, always something to be completed to finally stop and enjoy life.

I know this is something we all experience, or at least most of us, but for those of us who are children of emotional neglect, this runs so much deeper. When your own parents seem unhappy with your existence, with the person that you are, there is an internal system that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even exist, shouldn’t be here, at least not as you are now. If the people who brought you into this world tell you that who you are is wrong, it’s normal to feel like you want out of this world. Many children of neglectful parents experience chronic depression and suicidal ideation for this reason.

Our inability to be present and feel complete comes from this constant chasing of our worth, of our right to exist as we are. Maybe the next project will make me feel like I deserve the space I occupy. Maybe the next success. Maybe the next relationship, maybe the next milestone in my “healing.”

We all come into this world molded by our environment, and as we grow both in age and in consciousness, we discover that happiness is shedding away the nooks and crannies of a mold that does not belong to us, one that has been indented into our identity. What Carl Jung calls the process of individuation: separating what is truly you from what is only a mask, like people-pleasing and trauma responses. But I dare say that this process is especially difficult for the disappointing children of emotionally immature parents.

For us, this process isn’t about finding our ultimate happiness, it’s about surviving.

Last year, I established that my mental health goal was to get myself to a point where I am certain (well, nearly certain… because we never truly know) that I would not die by suicide. And I think I have finally reached that point.

Not much has really changed… in fact, if you asked a fly on the wall, things are worse than ever: I have “jobs” and not the huge career I’ve always wanted to have. I take full days off to watch TV because my energy levels are still difficult. I still overspend or party a little too hard… To the eyes of “SoCiEtY,” I am by no means healed, but to my eyes, I am.

I have fully reconnected with my curiosity. While in the past, whenever I would attend events, I would run hundreds of scenarios in my head and usually end up disappointed, I can now walk into a party with zero clue what to expect because I didn’t think about it.

I’ve learned to name my feelings in real time, to stop and pause when I feel activated, even if I cannot necessarily say why I’m upset, but to at least always validate my own feelings, and I’ve stopped living in shame of my hypersensitivity.

I’m no longer hurt by people walking out of my life. I’m me, to the best of my ability, and I can’t help it if someone’s best isn’t good enough to see how great I am!

I still have mood swings, but I have not felt suicidal in months… for the first time in… years?

I honor all of my emotions, but I pause to align with intention before I react.

I don’t doubt my reality anymore.

I don’t feel shame anymore.

Not much has changed on the outside… but inside, I feel whole, I feel here, I feel now.

I stopped trying to earn the air I breathe. I have a right to exist simply because I am here.