For days I have been thinking about how my life has changed, the turns it has taken, and that it has almost always been due to some mental health issue. This Thursday I was thinking about what to write, and during the night, after much reflection, I realized that May is an important month for me in this regard. It is part of my personal wheel of the year.
Whenever we read about the sacred dates for Pagans and Witches, they tell us about the sabbats and the esbats, about the seasons, the births and deaths of outstanding figures. Although they are days to remember because they make a difference and are part of our history, there are days of our own that must also be honored – days of our own that no one else has.
Many candles in a darkened space [Pixabay]
The birthday might be the most obvious example, but a personal wheel of the year goes beyond that. For me, celebrating my birth is important, but there are more days in my history that deserve equal attention. I’m not talking about my high school graduation, or my first day of college, or anything similar to that.
I’ve been thinking for a while, and there are several dates that I want to remember for personal reasons. There are beautiful memories, days that bring a smile to my face, but others that are so bitter that they give me goosebumps.
- On March 25, 2009, I opened a blog that would become my virtual home. It’s been 13 years writing in front of a computer about me, my work, that of others, letting off steam, seeing people come and go. This would be my date of beginnings, illusions, dreams, and sweet ignorance, to celebrate the child who decided to ask “what if I do this?”
- There’s also August 3 of that year, when I started my first book, which still hasn’t seen the light of day to this day. At the age of 14, I began to write a novel in code that talked about many things that I felt and were happening to me at that time, but so disastrous that no one would publish it. As much as I sent it and made endless lists of publishers to send it, I only received rejections, but I kept insisting. It’s the day of dreams, of tenacity, the birth of the creator I am today.
- May 24, 2011 is the day I uploaded a profile photo to Facebook where you can see some cuts on my hands. I was 15 years old, and what would be my debacle had already begun, my penultimate year of high school. For me, it’s a day to remember how it all started, the fears, the insecurities, remember my vulnerability, and work on my self-healing. It is a day to heal the wounds that may be open.
Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash
- There’s also September 2, 2014, when I self-published my first book on Amazon. I had already written several things, several tales and short stories, but I decided to take the plunge with a romantic novel that, as imperfect as it was, was the best thing I had done so far. It’s about my day to dare the impossible, to look for what I’ve always wanted, to level up and be better.
- It follows May 21, 2017, when I took that photo I talked about almost a year ago. After months of cutting myself almost every week, I decided that this would be the last time I would lose the battle, I took a photo that would serve as shock therapy, and I swore to myself that I would be stronger from then on. I’ve had relapses, I’ve had my crises, but I always remember that if I could be strong then, I can be strong now. It is a date to remember my strength, my will, and my rebellion against a disease that was destroying me.
- On July 2, 2020, one of my novels was selected on Wattpad as one of the most outstanding on Fantasy in Spanish. It was a day when I finally felt like I was accomplishing something, even though I had written that story years ago. It is my celebration of achievements, remembering what I have done along the way, the goals I met, and my successes.
- February 16, 2021 is the most special to date, soon to be eclipsed. It was when I finally received a publication proposal to which I was able to say yes. That same Wattpad novel could finally come out on paper. As I write this, I can only keep waiting for the dream to come true, gather strength, celebrate once again, and hope for the best without forgetting that there’s still work to be done.
There are many more days, I’m sure some I haven’t even considered yet, and the list will continue to grow. I’ve put out over 20 books so far, and I can commemorate the publication of each one, year after year, for example, and I just might start to. The changing of the seasons is essential to the outside world, but my own changes are sacred to me because they mark my history.
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