Reflection Chapter: No One Is Watching
I write a lot about what is happening to me, but never all of it.
On Instagram, I keep some things quiet. Sometimes I post what I am doing, other times I want to stay in the moment and enjoy it without pulling out my phone. For that very reason, you rarely see me use my phone when I’m out for dinner with friends or hanging with them, unless I want to show them something. A few weeks ago, I posted a story of me going to the gym around 05:30. My cousin replied via DM, saying it was a nice start of the year and that I was dedicated. I answered that I had been at it for about a year now, with a smiley.
This made me realize that outside my blog, I don’t really talk much to people anymore, at least not about what’s going on in my life or how I feel. Most of my change over the past year has been invisible. You guys who have been reading this blog probably know more than most people I talk to on a daily basis, and even then, you don’t know the full weight of the struggles or the pain I carry quietly. That is one of the reasons I wrote The Unseen Part of the Iceberg.
Lately, I noticed a change in how I interact with people and how I feel afterwards. I have been forcing myself to feel okay, so I took a step back from people and friendships for now, just less social activity. Unconsciously, I learned to say I am fine and fake a smile. I left a friend group I was part of. I guess I didn’t trust myself to go through that again, so I left before I could open up. This liminal space, this in-between phase, is lonely, and I decided to go through it alone without relying on someone this time. I think for now it is the best choice to keep everything just surface level, before my heart freezes over like the river Cocytus.
I told no one about the 5 a.m. wake-up calls, the occasional 3 a.m. panic attacks, the loneliness, the happiness of small successes, the little weight loss each week, or the doubts I carry. I don’t need an audience or friends to encourage me.
Because I understand everyone has their own goals and problems. The effort we put in often goes unnoticed. No one understands us better than ourselves. When I shared the story about the gym, it was for myself. A small, private proof that what I’m doing is real, and that I can be proud. I only showed a fragment of my boring routine.
Just like writing every week. Just like reading every day. No one sees it. No one tracks the progress. That’s not bitterness, just observation. Most of our work happens without witnesses.
That’s the quiet truth I’m sitting with right now. No one is watching.
And that’s my current season, quiet and unglamorous.
My first day in New Zealand 2017