Living back with my parents after spending three years away in Bandung opened my eyes to a quiet reality: their struggles are real, yet they always choose to hide them from their children.
A year ago, I moved back to my hometown after realizing my mental health was deteriorating, leading to a diagnosis of a depressive episode. Throughout this past year at home, I often felt helpless, as if I couldn't contribute much because I was still fighting my own inner battles every single day
But lately, I’ve been thinking deeply. I know my trauma lingers, it was born in my past, yet its shadows still haunt me even when I step into new spaces. Still, I ask myself: how long will I let my fear win? How long will I allow my past to hold me back while I truly want to stand up and support my parents financially?
So, what should I do next? Is it time to try again: to face my trauma, anchor it firmly in the past, and remind myself that this place is new? The environment, the atmosphere, the people, and the chapters ahead are all fresh. Maybe it’s time to let the newness finally begin.
Post a Comment