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tiny-sassy-aggressive · 2 months

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After watching We’re All Doomed, the comedy show by Daniel Howell, I need to take moment to write out how that show made me take a step back in my own life and evaluate progress and positive growth in my life as I realized that his timelines/feelings could be foiled in a meaningful way to my life. I was particularly inspired to write this while watching the scenes on the screen of the moments of joy people were experiencing. I swear I had chills and I started to tear up. As he spoke about not only embracing the void, but finding the courage to exist, but not just exist, but to live and find those moments of joy, I was reminded about how that moment in searching for why life was worth living was how I came (back) to Catholicism. I don’t intend this post to encourage others to or away from the Church. I simply was inspired by Dan to share how I got to a place of accepting that life is worth living and how I hope to move forward.

I want to first tw cancer, death, feelings of not wanting to exist, and mentions of suicide. Nothing is explicitly discussed in great detail but only mentioned. I have never written out my story before, barely talk about it even to this day. Tried therapy a few times but it wasn’t for me, but that’s neither here nor there. This is a safe space for me to share something I just wouldn’t with family and friends. Though, I must apologize in advance, like Dan, I talk/write way too much so this will be a very long post.

Thank you to all those who take the time to read my random story and I hope to hear from others how Dan’s story and/or show have affected you so we can share in those feelings as a community.

I am chronically depressed and anxious. Always have been as it runs in the family. However, the problem was my parents, or really, I should just say my mom because my dad was never around in an emotional capacity that mattered, didn’t necessarily believe in mental health. Sure they knew depression and anxiety were real, but those were just emotions people felt and there wasn’t anything to do but continue on and try your best to keep going no matter what. It’ll be fine, just keep moving and working, right? Well when I was 12/13 I was getting bullied really badly. It got to the point where I was having panic attacks before going to school, crying at night, constantly feeling nauseous, and worst of all, I would refuse to leave my moms side, so school got to be pretty difficult. My mom was fully aware of what was going on so she went in immediately and got the bullying handled (as much as she could, middle schoolers are brutal. It never really went away but it was less of a nuisance) but she did not understand why I still felt ill and didn’t want to leave her side. She found me a therapist and I went twice. I knew we had financial struggles and I started to feel better so I stopped going. I was still sad and scared but those were normal feelings, right? I could go to school and play my flute, talk to friends, and sure I was writing songs about being trapped in a cage and having no one hear my screams but I was just an edgy teen, I wasn’t depressed. That’s just me being me. No mental illness here! I’m fine. Spoiler alert- I was not fine and it was only going to get worse.

When I was 14 I found Dan and Phil! I was a huge o2l fan so I followed Connor Franta and he posted Internet Trivia with Dan and Phil and I absolutely fell in love with them and fell down the rabbit hole of their channels and the gaming channel. I loved them both but I definitely had a bias towards Dan because he wore all black and was edgy. Watching Existential Crisis for the first time gave me a phrase to the weird feelings I had. Both affirmed and disproved the fact I was mentally ill but I still didn’t have the words for it so I just thought I was mentally different from other people. Watching that video back with all the context of 2024 and 2024 Dan, that video covered an extraordinarily heavy topic but he never mentioned the word depression or mentally ill because, at that point, why would he? Since he was the only person who voiced those feelings that I also shared, I took them to heart, but I could only take those words to heart as I had no reference to infer what else all that meant. So I kept all my feelings to myself. After all, this guy said he had all these big feelings but was fine. Call me naïve, I was 14, so I believed I could be okay and still feel existential. It was normalized, plus nothing else in my life was being affected, I was doing well in school, I had friends, I had hobbies, I was fine. How could I complain?

A few months after the start my freshmen year of high school, my older brother was diagnosed with leukemia and everything changed. He was sick and had to stay in the hospital for months, one of my parents would always be at the hospital, and me and my little brother would visit on the weekends when we could. My mom really stressed the importance of keeping a normal schedule so we did. School, extracurriculars, piano, just keep moving and everything will be alright. I didn’t cry, I couldn’t cry. I had to remain okay, fine, an unbreakable force because I couldn’t have anyone worrying about me because we all had to worry about my brother. Which we did! I never wanted to be a burden or not okay because I wanted all attention and time focused on his wellbeing. I don’t remember talking to anyone about anything emotional. Sure as hell not my parents. Not my brothers. Not even my friends. So I watched videos and removed myself and all emotions from my being so I didn’t have to think or be.

When he was first diagnosed I felt lost and confused. So I did the one thing my private, catholic school taught me to do. I found God and prayed. Except, I can say certainly looking back, it was not a meaningful relationship I created. It was one forged in fear, confusion, and a misunderstanding of how to pray. Ironically, for a catholic school, they didn’t know how to teach someone to come to God, they just expected you to understand, but that’s beside the point and a different conversation. But that’s what I did! I prayed, every morning and night, Lord, Please heal my brother. Please. Tried devotionals I didn’t get, muttered words I didnt understand, and played the part. I watched everyone else around me do it so I did it too, to the point where I believed I needed to be perfect or else my prayers would fail, which, I cannot express enough, was not the appropriate mentality, but that’s what I thought was necessary.

About 7 months later, my brother was in remission and he came home! He was okay! We got through the summer, he came back to school, we were in band and choir together again. It was fun!! We were all okay again. The dark spots in my head were still there but they were probably just left over from how scary last year was. How could I not be happy with my brother back home and alright again. At this point, my prayers were answered so I slowed down my prayers. I was okay so I felt as if I did not need my relationship with God as intensely anymore because I felt fine. Plus, when I was sad or scared those were just normal reactions that were not taking over my life so why dwell on them.

In 2017, Dan released Daniel and Depression. And I don’t exactly remember my reaction. But at that point in my life, I remember coming around to the idea that maybe I was not as mentally sound as I thought. But even listening to what he had to say, I was still convinced I was not depressed, I was just traumatized from what had happened to my brother and to my family. I had spent that time living through hell and I never stopped, I did not lay in bed wallowing, I didn’t not brush my teeth or not take care of myself. I was a high functioning nearly straight a student through and through. I was not depressed.

I don’t know why that was such a dirty word for me. Or maybe it wasn’t a dirty word, but it was something I didn’t want associated with myself. My school didn’t believe in mental health because all you had to do was pray and “you can’t be depressed and be with God” - Which by the way is completely inaccurate and harmful for young people to grow up learning. On the other hand, my parents lived in a hospital with my sick brother for months, I shouldn’t be depressed or talk about the weird sadness I was experiencing after everything they went through. It’d be selfish of me to not be alright.

Two months after Dan posted his depression video, my brother got sick again, the cancer came back. I prayed fervently once again. Knowing it worked once it could work again. Every morning and every night in the depths of my dark room where no one could see or hear because everyone else in my family was not religious or was too angry at God to believe. I put it on myself to pray and to be good so he can be healed again. But I failed. He died 4 months later on my 17th birthday. Years later, a therapist would tell me that happened because he didn’t want me to forget about him, well jokes on the therapist I was never going to forget anyway. I failed, it was my fault he died. If I prayed more, if I was a better person, if I just focused I could have saved him. But I wasn’t enough, I was not good enough to save him. This wasn’t true, of course, nor how religion/prayer works. But I didn’t know what else to do or think. So I blamed myself. I wasn’t even there when he died. My parents told my little brother and I that he wasn’t ever coming home and a few days later, on my birthday, we went to school and when my dad picked us up from school he drove us home and my mom was sitting there and that’s when I knew. My little brother was so cute, he later admitted he just thought my mom had come home to see me for my birthday but I knew immediately. I still don’t know how my dad just picked us up that day and didn’t say anything.

A part of me died that day. How could it not have? It was a strange night. We cried. I ate a pre-bought cupcake. My brother went to lacrosse practice and the next day we both went to school. Because that’s just what we did. We just kept going. Let me tell you, you’ll get the strangest looks from people when they see you at school after they just heard over the loud speaker that your brother had died the previous day. Because really, what were we doing there? We were the highest functioning traumatized students you had ever seen. I was only 2 minutes late to my first class of the day, math. I went to the chapel in the school with my really close friend to cry and listen to adoration music and just wonder why, why, why? 2 minutes wasn’t too bad, the teacher was surprised to see me and I failed the math quiz we had. She was nice, she offered to not have me take it, but I was already there and it was math quiz time so I took the quiz. She let me redo it too. She was nice, I needed it. It felt normal so I felt fine.

And that was all the rest of the 2018 school year was. Fine. Went to class, studied, did my extracurriculars, performed in all the shows, hell, I even went to prom with said super close friend from earlier. It was obvious I was traumatized and sad but how could I not be? But I was doing everything a normal student would be doing so what was the problem?

The problem was I felt alone, hell, I was alone. My family was broken, shattered into a million a pieces. My dad was distant, my mom cried, my bothers and I weren’t talking in any meaningful way. I talked to one person, the guy who held me in the chapel the day after my brother died and who took me to prom. I loved him, we loved each other. He was the only person who I felt actually saw me. I always had some barriers up but I felt free with him and I know he just wanted me to be okay even in the midst of tragedy. We were friendly for 2 years but we got close right before my brother was diagnosed again. Those months meant so much to me and I thought we would always be close. But 1 month after my brother died. He told me he did not want to continue our relationship or friendship. He said I was too much to handle or had too much going on. In all honesty, I don’t remember his exact words because I most definitely mentally blacked out. And he broke what little part of me was left.

(About 2 1/2 years later he ended up calling me and after not really speaking to him at all since that moment, I picked up, more out of curiosity then trying to rekindle anything. He told me that, unbeknownst to me back in 2018, he went to our Moral Theology teacher (yes- private catholic school) to ask for advice because he saw how much pain I was in and he did not know how to help me. Instead of this teacher, a literal adult, going to our schools counselor, my mother, or even me and addressing this 17 year old boys concerns about ME, he told him that he should just give me space because of the mental weight of the tragedy I was living through. His advice to this boy was to essentially isolate me. Looking back, I do feel bad for this boy. He tried so hard to do the right thing for me but didn’t have the right directions. And on the other hand I am so mad at the teacher because that was the worst advice he could have ever given ever. Thanks! Real talk though, I loved that boy and he always meant the world to me. We didn’t keep in touch afterward that 2020 conversation but I kept tabs on him through mutual friends and he always listened to my music on Spotify. He went through a tough time and he committed suicide in 2022. I really do miss him and wish things were different for all aspects of his story, my story, and what might have been our story. It felt wrong to exclude his memory in this post because he truly played such a crucial role and he meant so much to me even years later)

Back to 2018, after he abandoned me. I was completely and utterly alone. And now, I feared opening up at all to anyone because I didn’t want to be perceived as the burden I truly was. So I swallowed every once of trauma, depression, and anxiety so I was perceived as a functioning, fine, human being who didn’t need anyone to worry about her. I didn’t want anyone to worry or care for me because they thought I was fragile or broken because I now had proof that I would become too much to handle and that anyone would just leave me just as he had. And that was it. I smiled, I laughed, I spent the next year completing every senior year milestone and graduated high school. And I didn’t feel one emotion. I was fine.

Summer 2019 was when things started to shift a bit and here’s where I think the foiling begins. For one, Dan had just released Basically, I’m Gay and he started to live his truth being out of the closet. I truly don’t want to nor feel like I can comment anymore on this topic because that was his own personal journey and I don’t want to speculate on anything he said. He did so quite clearly and explicitly. But the point I am making was that in the middle of 2019, he began living his truth. This one thing he didn’t talk about that is so quintessential to his character was now a public part of him and he got to experience that joy of being out. There was a shift in his character, anyone who watched his video could tell, he was happy, he seemed excited. He went to pride, did promotional videos, and he just seemed like he was living in a brighter light. It was beautiful to watch and I’m grateful he let us share in those moments of joy with him.

Before I get too deep into this section, I want to preface and state that I do not remember large chunks of time between 2018-2021. All the trauma and depression have made me forget nearly everything, and it’s a very weird sensation to have little to no memories of 3/4 years of time. I can recall general feelings and most memories I can see are from a third person pov so I can see what was happening, but I see it happening to me, not me actually experiencing the memory.

For me, summer 2019 meant leaving for college. Now, in hindsight, I made a major error. I was going to the same college my brother had been at before he died. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I thought it was a good idea but the school gave me money so I would have been a fool to take on more student loans than necessary, plus, I knew I wanted to transfer the next year and move half way across the country so I had an end goal in sight, just had to get through the year.

I also started to go to church again. There was a cute little church about a half mile down from my school so it was an easy walk. I don’t consider this change/new addition a mistake, but I do often wonder what was I thinking exactly. I don’t recall my exact process but remember two dueling trains of thought. For one, I still 100% felt weird about religion/God because I blamed myself for my brother dying because I wasn’t praying enough and wasn’t good enough to save him. But on the other hand, I did not feel right to never enter a church again and a part of me wanted to return because it felt like the right thing to do. I spent my entire formative years at a private catholic school. I knew all the prayers, scripture, the saints (I was confirmed taking St. Rose Philippine Duchesne), and my senior year religion class was dedicated to teaching us how to explain/teach the faith to non-believers. And I believed in all of it! I had faith, so how could I not be going to church. Call it guilt, or whatever you want to call it, but I couldn’t turn my back on the church after everything I had learned so I went back. It was the truth I believed in and the truth I wanted to live by. I told myself that eventually I would just feel better, I’d continue to pray to heal and keep going through the motions until it stuck. At this point, I had fully embraced the void I was living in. I accepted that I was depressed, I accepted that I was depressed long before the trauma began so I was battling undiagnosed depression alongside the after effects of the trauma, and I accepted that I am an incredibly anxious person. That was alot for an 18 year old to take in but I finally accepted what my truth was. I admit it and that’s the first step right? I know I am mentally ill so I started some therapy, and I continued going to church and praying because every thing I read and was told said those were the best things I could do to help myself. So things could only get better from here, right?

Not necessarily. The end of 2019 flew by and before we knew it we were in the throes of a global pandemic. Within 3 months in 2020, my parents divorced (finally), my grandmother died from the same cancer that my brother had which was sick was twisted if you ask me, and my mom, little brother, and I moved half way across the country. Oh and I transferred colleges in all that too. Besides every single bad thing we experienced, moving was supposed to be our new start. A new place, new schools, new adventures. No longer living in the state with every bad memory we had or the house we essentially grew up in. It was new and fresh, almost the perfect situation to start a mental health journey in, besides the recent trauma I still don’t think I have processed fully and a global pandemic. I just thought I would be getting better.

I remember the part of We’re All Doomed when Dan mentioned 2019 being so important because he started to live his truth and I felt so similarly. I thought once I accepted what was going on in my head I’d feel better. But then 2019-2021 for both of us seemed to be one of our worse times mentally, which is oddly terrifying because of the emphasis that was present on wanting to feel improved.

Between 2019-2021, I struggled with the concept of existing. I did not understand why I was here and others weren’t, what I was meant to do, and why I was meant to do it. I didn’t want to exist. I simply didn’t have the energy. I couldn’t conjure up emotions, nothing real anyway. I just felt nothing. I never felt suicidal, never did anything to harm myself, never wanted to. I knew and continue to know that I never wanted to die. I really just wanted to feel quiet, numb, not of the earth and those are very scary feelings. I could barely put them into words for when I talked to my therapist but I tried, but all she could tell me was to find distractions for myself. Distract, distract, distract, well that’s all I’ve been doing and I don’t feel better. I listened to music, wrote music, talked to my mom, pray, do my class work, scroll through social media, but what then? When alls said and done, the music is off, the conversation is over, the work done, the phone turned off, I was left with myself and I didn’t even recognize her. My mom said she saw a light in my eyes she hasn’t seen in a while but I had no idea what she was talking about. Whatever was on the outside wasn’t being transferred to the inside because I didn’t even know who was staring back at me in the mirror. I just knew she didn’t want to be here anymore. So what now?

When Dan showed us the calendar with the little emoji emotions over the days of the month, I swear my heart stopped for a moment because it reminded me of what I started doing for myself during that same time period, that very same year he was referring to in the show. I had downloaded this app, Hallow, it’s a catholic prayer app. Scripture, guided prayers, saints stories, the whole nine yards. I liked the little guided prayers. Helped me focus I guess. And every night I’d ask for the same thing. To feel better. To be healed. It also had a little section where you could track your mood for the day so I started doing that everyday. I wasn’t thinking too hard about it I just hit the emoji I felt and moved on. Until I started noticing a pattern of hitting, sad, anxious, worried, or unsure. Soon enough I had months upon months, just days filled with those same emojis. When I actually took a step back, just like Dan did, to stare at how my months were covered in little sad emojis it broke me more than I thought it ever could. Was this all that was left for me? Days that left me feeling dejected and dark? Why wasn’t anything I was doing enough to make me feel better, to make me feel something for my life, for this world around me. Every night pleading the same questions to God, why, why, why? Just begging to be healed.

One day in 2021, I felt hopeless, I was tired, drained, and I truly did not know what to do. I just wanted to feel. So I stopped begging God to fix me and I started talking instead. And I talked and talked about everything and nothing all at once. I told Him about my day and what had happened. I told Him about the little anecdotes, my classes, the walk I went on. I told Him what I felt during the day, the big feelings and the little feelings. As I recounted my day and all the little details, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt lighter. For the first time in a long time, I was not focused on the big scary black hole of my mind, the void, I spent time talking about what my day had looked like and what I knew was on my schedule for tomorrow. It grounded me. And it was just that. I wasn’t focused on the void, I was focused on the living I was doing despite the void and there was something beautiful about that realization I have never been able to put into words until I watched Dan’s show. God was not not healing me because I did not deserve it or because I was so helpless, for it was only when I was at my lowest that I let myself let go and speak freely outside the confines of asking for the same thing over and over again without changing my mindset. It was only through those open ended conversations that I found and was confronted with the events of my life, no matter how big or small. The void, my depression, my traumas, whatever I want to call them, they are always going to exist, they are a part of my and I can’t change anything about that. But my life, my 24 hours a day, that time will pass regardless of if I choose to dwell on the darkness or not, so might as well spend my time enjoying the light that clearly exists as well. So that is what I started to do.

It is a choice that I have to make each day when I wake up. To decide to be an active participant in my life rather than a passive bystander. But like all things, it’s an attitude that can be learned, adapted, and over time it did not feel like a chore to make that choice, but a pleasure. For once, I started to look forward to the future and excited for what I could do. I found a church where I could attend mass so I would stop sitting in my room and watching online, I started to push myself to make plans outside my comfort zone and learned to not just like my own company, but enjoy the silence of being alone. The one project I am particularly proud of is my second Instagram account dedicated to romanticizing my life. Everyday, for now nearly 2 1/2 years, I have posted a photo on that account of the places I’ve been, clothes I’ve worn, and experiences I have been on. It’s my own personal photo diary proving that I have been living and that I will be continuing to live.

Photos and daily reflection have been the cornerstone of my improvement which was why that segment of Dan’s show impacted me so greatly. Each small clip he shared was probably only a second or so long but each moment held such great joy and emotions that could not be contained. It was and will continue to be a reminder that there will always be moments of joy and moments of happiness that will exist even in the face of adversity, we just have to work to see them, and choose to accept them as our own. Some days can certainly be harder than others, but after years of feeling nothing but the heavy weight of despair, even just the memories of joy are enough to encourage me to move forward. I’m alive for a reason and I believe and trust in God’s plan for me, so I choose and, now, feel empowered to continue on.

Dan was right when he said that we are all doomed. And there is this void in my life that I have learned to embrace and not just ignore. But this life was not meant to be survived, but to be lived. And I, now, have the courage to choose to live everyday.

Thank you to @danielhowell for sharing a part of yourself with the world. For creating a show that encourages us to acknowledge every part of our lives, the good, the bad, the ugly, and to show the importance of embracing every aspect of our lives while we continue our journey. Thank you for encouraging me to share my story and my journey through mental health. I have never shared my story like this before and it has been an unbelievably cathartic experience and I feel renewed in my promise to continue to choose to live.

Thank you🖤

#dan and phil #dnp #daniel howell #dan howell #danisnotonfire #dan and phil renaissance #we’re all doomed #embrace the void #have the courage to exist #embrace life #finding purpose #catholic #catholiscism #mental health #mental illness #how to be a human being #we aren’t alone #thank you

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