Holding on and letting go

These last few months have been very interesting. I’ve been working hard to recover from long covid, even though things have continually been going up and down and I’m hardly a step further than I was mere months ago. I am, however, extremely thankful that I’ve managed to remain mentally stable throughout this ordeal, though it continues to be challenging. Respiratory issues are the pain of my existence nowadays, especially with the heat of the last few weeks. Meanwhile, I have gotten a little better at doing nothing and just sitting with my thoughts. Which has given me time to reflect, to start letting go of the past and focus more on the future.

I’ve slowly begun to make peace with the fact that life never goes as planned. I’ve always had trouble accepting a situation for what it is when it turns out differently than expected. And it wasn’t until last year that I realised that changing plans isn’t necessarily a bad thing and that it can actually have positive effects. I mean, I didn’t get to travel as much as I had hoped for, but I did move to a much nicer house. And I bought a new camera, which I’ve enjoyed using tremendously so far.

If I had simply held on to what I couldn’t do, instead of what was possible, I’d have made myself extremely miserable. That is one thing I’ve continuously told myself throughout this time. I can either retreat and sulk, or keep busy with things that are within my reach and make me happy. Not that it is always smooth sailing, there have been plenty of moments where I thought of giving up. But then I remind myself of all the times that I gave in and lost so much time I’ll never be able to get back.

One thing that this debilitating illness has allowed me to do is to pause and grieve the years that my depression stole from me. It has been a little painful, but instead of focussing on the things I cannot change, I can pay homage to my younger self by slowly but surely moving on. So I am extremely proud to say that in two weeks, I’ll be celebrating nine whole months without depression. I still can’t quite grasp it because it is such a milestone. Thus far I’ve been quite hesitant to celebrate, anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I’m slowly starting to believe that it might actually last; that recovery is possible and that I’m not going to relapse tomorrow.

Whilst that is definitely something to be thankful for, it doesn’t make my current condition any less frustrating. There’s so much that I want to do, so many paths to take, trails to hike, things to discover. Most of which seems impossible at the moment. But I am determined to not put my life on hold any longer. I want to live life to the fullest and I want it now. There’s so much more to life than what’s inside the four walls of my bedroom. It deserves to be seen, to be experienced, to be celebrated. So that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, within my limitations.

I guess not being able to be as active as I’d like, has forced me to take a hard and honest look at myself and what I truly wish for my life to be. And while I have no way of knowing whether my health is going to improve enough to be able to go on another hike in the near future, I can focus on things that don’t necessarily require me to be in peak physical condition.

For example: last year I said that I would very much like to go to Australia. And that still rings true. So it would be really cool to finally get to go and perhaps spend one or two years exploring the country on a working holiday visa. I’ve always felt out of place in the Netherlands and I’d like a change of pace. So that’s what I’m gonna focus on for now. And even though I don’t see it happening this year, I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to make this dream a reality next year.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue making art. Take pictures, practice filming, paint, write, everything I can pour my heart and soul into. I’m gonna read more, visit museums, go to the movies and take more random walks in the local parks, let myself get inspired. Because whilst I still don’t like Amsterdam, it does have its charm. And until the day I leave it behind me, it will be my home. The place that took so much from me including my health and sanity, but also the place where I’m gonna continue fighting to get better. I may not have all the answers and long covid may be difficult to deal with, but I won’t let it stop me any longer. I think I’ve waited long enough.

♥