The Map of My Psyche

Following my curiosity led to something bigger than me. There was a time when I couldn’t see past my own suffering, where I didn’t have a curious bone in my entire body. I had a body filled with hate and disgust, not only for myself but in the lens in which I saw the world. I would dwell on every single bad thing that happened to me.

My socks slipping off my ankles in my shoes. 

Every dirty look that came my way. 

Someone I didn’t even like not greeting me. 

Being excluded— alienated.

The thought of people not liking me. 

Constant obsession with how many likes I got. 

Every insult, subtle and in my face. 

Never feeling seen. 

Never feeling understood.

Never feeling enough. 

Pretty enough, skinny enough. 

I was a victim to what I endured, to my mind, and to every minor inconvenience I came across. There were many things I couldn’t control, but there were also many things I could control and chose not to because experiences where I was powerless— taught me overtime that autonomy doesn’t exist when you don’t have the mental or physical strength to create a different outcome. 

I learned at an early age to become hyperaware of people and my environment, where everywhere I went a threat existed. At school, at home, and with who I thought were my friends. The eerie sense to always watch your back and walk on eggshells that was burned into me. Before I knew it I could read facial expressions, micro body language, tone, and energy. 

This resulted in me always feeling responsible to manage other’s emotions or reactions. I learned to explain myself constantly, often questioning my own perception before trusting it because someone with more influence or popularity dominated the space. I thought in managing others emotions, it would get me approval, because I thought basic reciprocal care had to be earned.

It was this endless cat and mouse game of how I could get people to like me, which overtime turned into how can I get everyone to fear me? 

If people feared me, they wouldn’t be able to humiliate me.

If people feared me, they couldn’t make me feel small. 

They wouldn’t be able to make me feel powerless.

I joined boxing at 13 years old, which was something I started to do as points to be seen as cool by my classmates. What I didn’t know was the guttural rage and resentment that would build from it. Boxing gave me my confidence back, but it didn’t give me true genuine confidence. It made me cocky. 

I may have been good at my sport, but I still felt worthless inside. 

Protection dressed up as confidence.

One day I snapped, fighting a girl at school– which gave me that untouchable respect. Until I moved again. 

You see, I had moved about 4 times at this point so I was used to it. What sucked this time was that I had to build my credibility again at a new school. Though I wasn’t truly able to the way I would’ve wanted. 

I became so utterly exhausted from being so fierce that I reverted back to shrinking myself to make others comfortable. It became my comfort zone. 

At my new school, I focused on myself at first— doing track and field. Which was another sport I excelled at. This was also the time I had my first “real” high school relationship. Which ultimately ended up being a lesson. I didn't realize at this time how much my mental health was dwindling from the constant pressure I put on myself to gain approval from others. Track was my first and favourite way to do that. 

I was having intense depression that kept me stuck, which led to me having a mental breakdown, having my first anxiety attack. I tried to overcome it, but it also made me confront my cousin who had bullied me before, but my brain convinced me it was happening again. In a way it was but really it was just my overwhelming feeling of aloneness mixed with exclusion from not only my cousin but other peers. When I confronted her I blew up, yelling at my cousin in the main area at school— which resulted in the principal bringing us into the office the next day. It didn’t help anything. 

So I switched schools again, I had friends at my new school— but I came into the cycle again of constantly caring what others thought of me, where every little tease or comment wrecked me.

Still going through depression I often sat in class with my hood on, I had classmates I’d joke around with but two classmates started to take it too far. One telling me to shut up often out of nowhere, or making degrading comments. The other would comment on something I was wearing everyday or something about me, making the majority of the class laugh at me and leaving me feeling like a joke. 

I continued to stick to myself, and when covid hit I eventually went into homeschool which I really loved because I was able to have one on one calls with my teachers to help me understand things I didn’t get at first. 

Later when I graduated, I did some upgrading at a local community college which led to me moving out a few days before my 18th birthday.

I also got into—what I didn’t know at the time would be— a tumultuous relationship, that had me questioning everything I’ve ever learned, knew, and which brought on intense shame from not knowing. Or shame from realizing I did know better at times but didn’t know my worth enough to actually choose better.  

Until mid 2022 when I grew the courage to leave the relationship. Once he broke his skateboard in front of me one night something in me snapped. It was suddenly clear how insane it all was. 

It was reflected how dangerous the conditioning was— to honour everyone around me besides myself— but I just thought that is what would keep me safe. At least emotionally and mentally. Although all it really did was create a closet of skeletons— all the emotions I’d push aside to put someone else before me. 

And this pattern continued, until I found out how it was the worst thing you could do to protect yourself.

You’d think I would’ve already known that through boxing, but it’s tricky behind closed doors because you’d think you’d be safe in your own home. Or in the place where you’re resting for the night. 

In early 2023 I experienced one of the most traumatic, dark, dehumanizing experiences of my life that led me down a long harrowing path. 

From 2022-2025 I experienced numerous grey zones, and red zones on the danger scale. The grey zones were tricky because they never felt okay, but they didn’t ever fully feel wrong to me either. I didn’t focus on the red zones until 2025.

Something I dove into in late 2023 was tarot readings, in the midst of healing from one of the first traumas that changed me I built a website to offer paid tarot readings, doing tiktok lives, and even though I never consistently promoted myself I still get requests for readings, and offer them to friends in need— free of charge, of course. 

Over time I fell out of it, going through a period in 2024 where I relied on alcohol to enjoy my life. It fed the cycle of ignoring all the red zones I’ve experienced in my life, and staying on a rush of adrenaline just to end up re-experiencing what I thought wouldn’t happen again.

Early 2025 is when it all changed for me. 

Down a deep hole of wondering why me— why did it have to happen to me so many times, and now to the point of near death? Was this meant to happen to me? 

But the thing is, I could spend years wondering that. Instead I turned into myself.

I began to write, needing something to keep myself busy and pour the years of pain out of me and onto a page that no one had to see. 

Somewhere my thoughts could exist, and a way to process what I was feeling.

Which slowly turned into more as I thought I could actually make it all into something that could not only benefit my healing as I dedicated myself to it, but to create something bigger than me that many people could possibly find themselves in. 

So I started with writing essays, a means of survival to word vomit all that I had been carrying. Which turned into poetry, and eventually decided to make it all into a real body of work. I started to structure out my memoir, writing here and there. Moments where writing brought tears and long stares off into space had me taking breaks. 

Then,

I continued to do my ritual of putting on my makeup and putting myself together.

I continued to go to sleep each night and wake up the next day. 

I continued to work on making my room cozy.

I continued to do my tarot practice. 

I continued to reflect, using music to help pull emotions out of me that I buried.

I continued to write.

A few months later I put together social media pages that I could share smaller pieces I’d write whenever a surge of inspiration hit, and eventually built a website for my longer form pieces. 

I continue to write my memoir even when progress becomes slow, as I give myself permission to step away to live my life. 

Amidst writing, it took me a lot of courage to continue because some days I don’t even want to read certain chapters because I have gotten so far from those moments that it is painful to look back on. 

I’ve realized through my writing experience how resilient I really am and how strong I’ve had to be and been. I honestly think of my life so far and what I’ve been through as a really horrifying coming of age movie where the ending is getting really good— because one thing I notice about myself; is that when I initially decide I want to achieve something, my follow through and action towards it has always been fairly quick. 

For example;

I wanted a tarot business so I built the website the next day. 

I wanted a writing platform, so I built it that same day. 

I wanted to write a memoir, so I started writing—so far written 32,000 words. 

I wanted to drive on my own, so I took a driving course, practiced, went for my first try, waited a few months and didn’t drive for awhile—  but when I booked my test again I only practiced briefly the day before, then went the next day and passed. 

I wanted a car, so I bought one the day after passing.

I don’t always move quickly emotionally, but when something feels genuinely aligned I’ve learned acting on it as soon as possible is the best way to be. Everyone has their own way of working towards their goals but this is what works for me. 

Through my continued practice of tarot, came my spirituality. I learned to trust my intuition, reflecting on past experiences I recalled times where it saved my life, and times where it cost me when I didn’t listen to it.

I’ve been in therapy since I was 18, deciding not long after I initially moved out that talking to a professional could benefit me. While there were two year-long periods I stepped away when life got heavy, I came back to it and continue to show up even when sometimes it feels like I don’t need it anymore. Though if I’ve learned anything, healing isn’t linear, and while there are periods I am thriving I know it's a tool I can always lean on. 

In all honesty, the true healing has been in writing my memoir. Through revisiting horrible memories over and over again instead of avoiding them. Over time, many of my beliefs about myself and the situations I lived through have changed. Others have remained exactly the same.

What's truly been healing is the process of elimination—slowly realizing that regardless of my contribution to a situation, the way I was treated was not okay.

And no matter what anyone’s perception of right or wrong in a scenario is, the core value I hold of human decency is where I can never stray. 

I’m able to pour out my feelings and recollection of memories in such a raw, vulnerable way in a space I’ve created for myself. This memoir is being built entirely by my own hands, my own mind, and my own will, a full expression of everything I wasn’t brave to say before. 

It is like this current version of who I am now is standing up to all the injustice, all the hurt, and is saying ‘no actually that wasn’t okay and this is what I have to say.’ 

In continuing to write my memoir I’ve been better able to organize my thoughts and learn how to communicate what I’m feeling in my relationships. I’ve learned to regulate my emotions while also honouring them in a way that has made a huge impact on my well-being and overall peace.

Through the journey of truly learning myself—through writing and reflection—I cultivated an untouchable sense of self-love and self-respect because I was finally taking ownership of my story. It slowly dismantled the shame I carried from the darkest periods of my life. Organizing the chapters of my life and weaving together the details, emotions, thoughts, and realities, helped me understand why I responded the way I did and revealed the psychological impact trauma can have on a person.

Learning about trauma responses has contributed greatly to giving myself the grace I used to so easily give to others. While also learning compassion, and understanding that I can always at least try to understand why someone might have done what they did but that it also doesn’t take away from my own experience. 

That doesn’t mean what they did wasn’t wrong, but that there are multiple perceptions. I learned how much nuance there actually is to everything, and weirdly it’s also helped me find a lot of peace.

At first I struggled with others' perceptions. To acknowledge that someone else is valid in their perception I had to learn to sit with—even when it was deeply uncomfortable. How I found peace within it was when I sat with myself and noticed it was my ego wanting to keep me in a right vs wrong instead of trying to understand. 

This is something I struggled with in communication as well, and honestly, it's something I'm still learning. To lead with understanding instead of wanting to be right—or proving someone else wrong. I've realized that constantly replaying how wrong someone else was only keeps me trapped in a cycle of validating my own perspective instead of becoming curious about theirs.

There are obviously situations where I can look at something and know it is deeply wrong. Those feel quite clear to me. I'm talking about interpersonal relationships, everyday communication, and personal beliefs—places where ego can quietly take over.

Now, the biggest lesson of all has been discernment, weaving everything together. I noticed being able to recognize is one level but in the moment learning to decipher what is a misunderstanding vs an injustice happening. 

I wrote this a couple months ago when I was realizing where my nervous system was at, which I’m still working through;

I didn’t recognize until today how deeply I have been affected by the events of the last 4 years. Time after time I was put in the position where I had to defend myself. 

The cost of not defending myself only added tax overtime of a sunken sense of worthlessness. 

Where I unconsciously took on everyone’s emotions, baggage, and stress. Through continuously not speaking up for myself I created a system where I became a waste pile of everyone else’s baggage. 

A titanium shell thrown around.

Until it cracked.

When one day my own pile of baggage became so muddled and decrepit— and the confines to how thin I could stretch myself became precarious. 

I couldn’t do it anymore. 

An accumulating burden that’s gone too far. Where one day I noticed I no longer was accepting even a milligram of disrespect, invalidation, and a refusal to be cornered.

I’ve always been the type to be outspoken, but suddenly I became someone who always speaks up. 

Where at one point my feelings and boundaries weren’t taken into account, now—it’s never not prioritized. 

My biggest problem now is untangling the learned conditioning. The trauma response. 

I will never not stand up for myself, and I struggle to see my intensity as a problem. 

Though my nervous system is acting like a ticking time bomb, that is so touchy— a drop sets it off. 

I realized maybe I’m not okay. 

Maybe it’s time I stop pretending I am. 

Since I wrote that— I’ve genuinely felt okay, my natural baseline is a large sense of peace, a deep motivation to move forward, and a desire to keep choosing myself and staying present in my life which has brought me an abundance of joy.

There have still been moments where I've realized that although I feel okay, my nervous system is still recalibrating after spending so long on the defensive.

I know I’m on the right path, and through my dedication to continue to show up to therapy I know I’m in a better spot than I give myself credit for. 

I recently passed my drivers test and got my drivers license, and the next day bought myself a car. The freedom I always wanted, and something I told myself I wanted to do for the past 4 years has finally happened. 

Writing this now made me come to the conclusion that I have a perfectionist mindset. While I don't see it as entirely negative because it has continually pushed me toward growth, it hasn’t fully allowed me to acknowledge my accomplishments. 

This is me finally stepping back to appreciate how far I've actually come.

I wrote this essay because I pulled an oracle card from a deck I was guided to buy that told me; “Tell yourself a story of empowerment.”

That brought me to this moment right now. It’s through trusting my intuition, letting it guide me through this past year that I finally learned to acknowledge my growth.