My Worst Favorite Holiday

It was March 17, 2020. I was having a good day because I was happy. I know I forgot to wear green to work, but after I noticed, I quickly put something green on. I really love St. Patricks Day. After all, it's a celebration that involves my favorite color and the country of my dream vacation.

This day was going like any other. Get up at 4, get ready for work, drive to work while jamming to my favorite songs, take calls for six hours, go to school, go home, eat with my family, go to bed. It was a good day until I saw a text from my then boyfriend.

I can't remember exactly what he said, but he broke up with me. I believe the night before was when I was arguing with my friends about the Coronavirus and how it was impacting me. They kept turning it around and making it personal when I was just telling them that I wasn't comfortable spending time with them until we knew more about this new virus that was killing so many people. It may have been a few nights before, but I ended up getting uninvited to one of their weddings because of the argument when, I believe I was not doing anything wrong.

Not only did I feel like I didn't have any friends, but the person I was unofficially engaged to broke up with me. Not even 12 hours later, there was 5.7 magnitude earthquake less than five miles away from where I lived. I lived in the area that was hit the worst by it and still have PTSD, over 18 months later, when I hear sounds that sound like an earthquake or when someone is shaking their leg.

Just a quick run down about how I was feeling; unsafe. I lost all of my friends, my boyfriend had broken up with me, we were being advised to social distance to not spread this virus, and now the earth was shaking. All of my safe places were gone. I couldn't deal with it.

Here's a little fact about me: I listen to my dreams. I had a dream where I was talking to somebody who was very important in my life. I could not remember what they were saying. Only that they kept repeating, "19 days. Just wait 19 days." I counted. 19 days from the earthquake was when my church was going to have an annual session where the prophet and other people speak to us.

I waited. On the 19th day, I learned one thing. Sometimes, the answers we are looking for are not there. We will never get the answers." I stopped. I stopped caring about those friends and how badly they had betrayed me. I learned a lot from them even though they weren't there.

I learned what gaslighting is. I finally understood why my cousins chose to take their own lives. That pain was unbearable, but I stuck through it. I learned that people come and go. Most of all, I learned how to create and find my own happiness. I may not have friends even now, but I have myself. I have my family. I found the love of my life and the life we are building together is miraculous. I pulled through what I thought was the worst part of my life by looking for blessings.

To think it all started on my favorite holiday. That made it my worst favorite holiday.

Sidenote: If you are struggling with mental health and contemplating taking your own life, don't. Just find something to look forward to no matter how small it is. Ask for help. There are so many people out there who want to help. They go to school and incur tons of student loan debt just so they can help you get through those times. You can make it through. Better days are coming to you. You just have to get through whatever it is you are going through today.