The B-Roll #21

The city at night

This is the twenty-first edition of my newsletter, The B-Roll. Thank you for coming along for the ride. If you think someone in your life might also enjoy these letters, please share this with them.

Hey friend,

You want to know a funny thing about me? I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler. It’s not an exaggeration. If you look around my apartment, you’ll probably also notice shelves being slightly off. My brother is the one who got my dad’s pure artistic ability. Me? I’ve just got his attitude and my mom’s love for literature.

But I mentioned that to talk about lines. Particularly the thin lines that we constantly navigate in our lives without even thinking about it.

The line between hiding from the world because of depression and retreating for self-care.

The line between running away and walking away.

The line between healthy indulgence and recklessness (could be spending too much money, drinking, sweets, etc).

The line between pushing yourself to get stronger and destroying yourself at the gym.

The line between opening up and over-sharing to push someone away.

The line between living intentionally and living on auto-pilot.

I’ve found that I’m becoming more acutely aware of these lines in my life. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, to be honest. 

***

I finally cried last night. A good cry. Sobbing in the shower cry. Not just the random tears that would fall during unfortunate moments. 

Depression is a funny thing. For some, it shows up in regular tears. For me, crying is a sign of coming out of a depressive episode instead of being in one.

And yes, surprise, I’ve been in a horrible one for the past few weeks. I was in one when I was on the beach in Cyprus. 

I was in one when I was dancing at a concert.

I was in one when I was dancing to 90’s music at a club. 

But for the last 3 weeks there was the fog. I either slept too much or I didn’t sleep at all. I just existed. I couldn’t manage the strength to write to my friends. 

As I enter the last 3 months of this 6 month stay in Istanbul, I’m finally returning to normal, sort of.

I’m going to the gym regularly. I’m doing my best not to feel guilty about the fact that I haven’t been able to show up to my life, be a good friend, or a good sister. 

I’m just trying. 

And thinking.

Here I am again trying to put those thoughts down.

***

I began writing this letter last week, and a slew of things have happened since then that I haven’t processed, so I will not talk about them just yet.

SHARING CORNER: 

• So, I did an interview about about my life choices, and my journey in pivoting away from the expected. Speaking of expectations, I didn't realize I'd be the primary example for this article, so that was fun.

• On the theme of growing old, I loved this piece about growing old online. 

  • "There is also novelty to be found in experience, and regret, and nostalgia, in having been online a long time, in narratives that have not held cultural attention before. There is novelty in seeking a different, stranger, less familiar coming-of-age story, one that follows us into the next and the next era of our lives. Coming-of-age stories are about gaining access to secrets; perhaps the big secret of whatever comes after youth is that we are capable of holding more than we think we can, that there is always room."

• This essay based on an interview with Cindy Gallop is just *chef's kiss* 

***

Thanks for reading this far, friend. As with everything in life, this is a continuous work-in-progress and you can always hit "Reply" to give me feedback, commentary, or your thoughts on the topic of the letter.Until next time, I wish you a sane and healthy week.With love,