and here’s always a good time. And despite my seeming lack of understanding of spatio-temporalities, the linguistic choice was intentional — the point is stark, and actually overly simple: it’s always okay to start again.
I went to Belfast because I needed some reprieve from what has been the most difficult month of my life since December 2023, and realised (quite like a punch in the gut) that wherever I go is where I am, and so that includes my thoughts. Funny, because my thoughts are exactly what are chasing me away, and yet they’re what remain after I’ve unpacked my bags, after I’ve crossed borders, and after I seek to find myself in between arms and in the heat of people who would provide me space so I can forget (guess who went on a date within 3 hours of arriving?).
Until I remember again.
That doesn’t really make sense, does it? I guess I should begin from the start.
Hi, I’m Joy (laughing at how many times I’ve introduced myself on this corner of the internet I’ve considered home for more than a decade now — it’s a wonderful reminder though: of the aggregateness of our parts, and of our remaining whole despite despite despite), and in spite of my name (or probably because of?), I have grappled with a wide array of mental disorders for the better part of my life. Anorexia at 12, bulimia at 17, generalised anxiety disorder at 19, bipolar 2 disorder at 24, ADHD and borderline personality disorder and PTSD, comorbid with the aforementioned bipolar, at 29. Maybe it’s more one than the other, maybe it’s just me trying to justify the tremors I experience by giving them names, maybe it’s the unintentional giggle I get when I rattle these acronyms down, making me believe I’m more accomplished than I am — but they’re real, and they’re a vital part of who I am.
And maybe it’s time I finally sit with them and claim them as mine.
I am all of those (and that’s a whole lot), but I’m also, and I’ve realised this just recently, so much more, and that’s something I need to believe is good.
Because despite the whirlwind of my thoughts, and within the confusion that attend my mental difficulties, and amidst the truth that the easiest way to dealing with the Hard is Doing The Reckless (I’m gonna die anyway and I’m gonna die on a high and on my own terms and I’m gonna spend half my savings because I’m gonna kill myself tomorrow and I can do everything and I’m not gonna die I’m never gonna die), I need to, because I want to, slow down. And befriend intention. And choose to be kind.
To everyone, unquestionably.
But also, and just as importantly, to me.
Last night I watched Filth (sorry Joe, you’re great but that was not what I needed to watch) and got struck by the frightening realisation that I am one wrong move away from being who I hate. And that freaked me out.
Fortunately, and with the support of everyone I love and who loves me, and with the kind thoughts of everyone who have seen me and held me and thought the world of me, I’m here. And I’m fighting the urge every day to fight against the mental screams to leave. And if that means that despite the difficulties I am choosing every single day to be good, and to fight for the creation of a better world, and to serve as a reminder (and the biggest believer) that things will be okay (because they will be, I promise. And I never break my promises.), then I don’t need to run away from those thoughts anymore.
Because they’re me.
But as in the discussions of aggregate, I am also more than them.
I am plenty other things too.
So yes, hi. I’m Joy. I am riddled with complex trauma and anxious thoughts, but I am also a teacher, I’m a climate justice lawyer, I’m a mental health advocate, I foster animals, I can never keep a plant alive, I sew and paint and cook and sometimes I see Instagram potters and think I can throw clay the way they do, I have way too many scars on my legs, I have the craziest, most grandest of dreams, I eat way more chocolate than is probably healthy and drink far too little water, I have had both privilege to be able to articulate my thoughts and the responsibility to write about them in a safe manner, and I have the world’s most amazing support system, who would hold my hand and either take the plunge with me when I dream outrageously or gently pull me back when I’m not thinking straight (which is often).
Aggregate of parts.
But all me.
I’m so glad I’m here.
I’m so glad you are too.
Of perpetual finds 