u/gastrovascular

​

Hi sisters, this is going to be a long word vomit – please bear with me or skip to the ending for TLDR 🖤 Trigger warning: mention of suicide attempts

I'm the eldest of two. My parents aren't perfect but I know they did their best within their circumstances and I am learning to accept that it was their first rodeo too. Growing up, I was mostly left on my own devices given that both of my parents were office workers (they're retired a decade ago). I was (forced by the situation to be) an independent child...but without the necessary emotional/psychological support, I grew to develop a deep seated sense of anxiety and loneliness in that "independence".

8 years ago I left my home country (somewhere in SEA) to pursue my dream education abroad. It was a miracle, first shot at a prestigious scholarship...and I got it. The only ticket way out (at least it felt that way at the time). Everything was new and exciting. Fast forward a year later, Covid came and took my dear grandpa&ma away while I was abroad. I managed to tough it out as I promised I'd make them proud (and I can't leave the country due to lockdown). Then Covid almost took my dad – thank God he pulled through it. My mom went through everything by herself...she didn't even tell me until later when my dad was deemed ok for release. During all this time, my little brother was hiding his struggles with his uni from me and my parents. My family's finances went downhill with no more savings left (mom kept this info away from me too until much later). I find my way to remain strong during it all, mostly thanks to my housemates and the fact that I have a stipend to support me. I sent what I can back home and saved what remains for myself.

Facing the prospect of returning to my home country at the tailend of Covid...with all the uncertainties of it all (and the fact that my qualification is super niche, no way I'd land a job/project during this) was harrowing. At this point, I was still headstrong in my "hopefulness" (albeit driven by my anxiety). I kept convincing myself that better days will come and there must be a way "out." For a moment it did feel like it as I (again, miraculously) landed a research contract at a dream institute in a different country. So I did that. My family and my partner remained supportive in ways that they can. Deep down I wish I could take them with me.

This time I was completely "independent"...no more safety net from being in a scholarship nor the support of housemates. I told myself to focus hard on my prospects here, send what I can to help family in Indo, and maybe slowly plan to settle down. But the anxiety never stops. It grew and grew into what felt like "am I being egocentric? Doing all these things, enjoying fresh air and a different quality of life by myself yet I can't save my family nor my partner." This feeling is quiet but always there in the back of my mind. Then the day came, with a phonecall from mom...amidst her sobbing finally telling me that not a while a go my brother came to her with a confession that he has attempted suicide. Twice. He promised if by the second try he didn't succeed he would come clean to my mom. I lost my composure and bawled. Utterly disappointed and disgusted at myself...how can I not know that my brother is suffering so much that he attempted to end things. My brother agreed to return home as my parents came to terms with letting him quit uni (as it was one of the main sources of his pain/trauma).

During this period I was lucky enough to have a couple of close friends living nearby, a rock solid therapist, and my supportive LDR partner. But ever since finding out my brother's situation (and imagining how shattered my aging parents must be)... everything became...heavier. Not to mention that my partner was enduring his own struggles and a string of rejections as well. Everyone dear to me is in the middle of battling depression...and I must stand strong for them. Long story short, I decided to return to Indo with a one way ticket. I convinced myself that I will be able to help everyone better by being there...hands on rather than simply monitoring/supporting from afar. Once again I rested in the hope that things will work out the way it's supposed to be. That was 2 years ago.

Two years I tried my darnest to adapt back into this place without losing myself. Or at the very least the best version of myself I found when things were hopeful. For my brother: I do my best to show up and be more present, supportive yet not too pushy so he can find his footing. For my parents: I do my best to be gentle, come to terms with past mistakes, and continue to help pay bills whenever I can. For my partner: I do my best to be compassionate, understanding, and supportive through what seems like the deepest rockbottom period for him. And for myself: I continued to put on this mask pretending that I can find a way out for everyone...while deep down mourning the things that could have been. All while enduring the constant blunders, oppression, exploitation, and suffering happening in this country (and the world). Without the privileges I had before (read: access to therapist, predictable income, minimal sensory assault from loud/bright environment (I am AuDHD if that matters), easy access to nature/parks/libraries to unwind) I found myself rapidly unravelling. I started isolating myself from my friends and just going through the motions numb.

At this point I feel like I'm barely hanging by a thread. I turned 32 last week and it feels like no matter how hard I try (to help myself or others) nothing will improve/ultimately get better. My partner is finding it hard to picture what the future would like anymore – my brother and parents too although they're not saying it out loud. And I think I'm beginning to lose steam in finding hope as well? To add to things: my partner and I were planning to tie the knot this year...we had plans (or a vision) to move to a smaller life somewhere within the country just to take a step back from all the chaos we can no longer endure (and sustainably afford) in a big metropole. But with how awful our mental state is right now, it seems like it's wise to postpone rather than push it.

So, how do you remain hopeful and find the strength to be there for yourself and your loved ones during times like these?

I'm not giving up yet...but it sure is enticing.

Hi Puans, this is going to be a long word vomit – please bear with me or skip to the ending for TLDR 🖤 Trigger warning: mention of suicide attempts

I'm the eldest of two. My parents aren't perfect but I know they did their best within their circumstances and I am learning to accept that it was their first rodeo too. Growing up, I was mostly left on my own devices given that both of my parents were office workers (they're retired a decade ago). I was (forced by the situation to be) an independent child...but without the necessary emotional/psychological support, I grew to develop a deep seated sense of anxiety and loneliness in that "independence".

8 years ago I left Indo to pursue my dream education abroad. It was a miracle, first shot at a prestigious scholarship...and I got it. The only ticket way out (at least it felt that way at the time). Everything was new and exciting. Fast forward a year later, Covid came and took my dear grandpa&ma away while I was abroad. I managed to tough it out as I promised I'd make them proud (and I can't leave the country due to lockdown). Then Covid almost took my dad – thank God he pulled through it. My mom went through everything by herself...she didn't even tell me until later when my dad was deemed ok for release. During all this time, my little brother was hiding his struggles with his uni from me and my parents. My family's finances went downhill with no more savings left (mom kept this info away from me too until much later). I find my way to remain strong during it all, mostly thanks to my housemates and the fact that I have a stipend to support me. I sent what I can back home and saved what remains for myself.

Facing the prospect of returning to Indo at the tailend of Covid...with all the uncertainties of it all (and the fact that my qualification is super niche, no way I'd land a job/project during this) was harrowing. At this point, I was still headstrong in my "hopefulness" (albeit driven by my anxiety). I kept convincing myself that better days will come and there must be a way "out." For a moment it did feel like it as I (again, miraculously) landed a research contract at a dream institute in a different country. So I did that. My family and my partner remained supportive in ways that they can. Deep down I wish I could take them with me.

This time I was completely "independent"...no more safety net from being in a scholarship nor the support of housemates. I told myself to focus hard on my prospects here, send what I can to help family in Indo, and maybe slowly plan to settle down. But the anxiety never stops. It grew and grew into what felt like "am I being egocentric? Doing all these things, enjoying fresh air and a different quality of life by myself yet I can't save my family nor my partner." This feeling is quiet but always there in the back of my mind. Then the day came, with a phonecall from mom...amidst her sobbing finally telling me that not a while a go my brother came to her with a confession that he has attempted suicide. Twice. He promised if by the second try he didn't succeed he would come clean to my mom. I lost my composure and bawled. Utterly disappointed and disgusted at myself...how can I not know that my brother is suffering so much that he attempted to end things. My brother agreed to return home as my parents came to terms with letting him quit uni (as it was one of the main sources of his pain/trauma).

During this period I was lucky enough to have a couple of close friends living nearby, a rock solid therapist, and my supportive LDR partner. But ever since finding out my brother's situation (and imagining how shattered my aging parents must be)... everything became...heavier. Not to mention that my partner was enduring his own struggles and a string of rejections as well. Everyone dear to me is in the middle of battling depression...and I must stand strong for them. Long story short, I decided to return to Indo with a one way ticket. I convinced myself that I will be able to help everyone better by being there...hands on rather than simply monitoring/supporting from afar. Once again I rested in the hope that things will work out the way it's supposed to be. That was 2 years ago.

Two years I tried my darnest to adapt back into this place without losing myself. Or at the very least the best version of myself I found when things were hopeful. For my brother: I do my best to show up and be more present, supportive yet not too pushy so he can find his footing. For my parents: I do my best to be gentle, come to terms with past mistakes, and continue to help pay bills whenever I can. For my partner: I do my best to be compassionate, understanding, and supportive through what seems like the deepest rockbottom period for him. And for myself: I continued to put on this mask pretending that I can find a way out for everyone...while deep down mourning the things that could have been. All while enduring the constant blunders, oppression, exploitation, and suffering happening in this country (and the world). Without the privileges I had before (read: access to therapist, predictable income, minimal sensory assault from loud/bright environment (I am AuDHD if that matters), easy access to nature/parks/libraries to unwind) I found myself rapidly unravelling. I started isolating myself from my friends and just going through the motions numb.

Puans, at this point I feel like I'm barely hanging by a thread. I turned 32 last week and it feels like no matter how hard I try (to help myself or others) nothing will improve/ultimately get better. My partner is finding it hard to picture what the future would like anymore – my brother and parents too although they're not saying it out loud. And I think I'm beginning to lose steam in finding hope as well? To add to things: my partner and I were planning to tie the knot this year...we had plans (or a vision) to move to a smaller life somewhere in kabupaten Semarang just to take a step back from all the chaos we can no longer endure (and sustainably afford) in Jakarta. But with how awful our mental state is right now, it seems like it's wise to postpone rather than push it.

So, how do you remain hopeful and find the strength to be there for yourself and your loved ones during times like these?

I'm not giving up yet...but it sure is enticing.