“All I hear is Billie Holiday, is all that I play, is all that I play”
- Lana Del Rey, The Blackest Day
I was laying on my bed, watching the ceiling, petting my dog, nothing to do listening to Billie Holiday, missing someone that doesn’t really exists, feeling very tired of pretending to be someone else, of watching myself not be my best self and not being able to do anything about it because I didn’t actually know who this person should be. When it hit me: I was sad.
Not depressed sad, just sad. Sadness is a really strange feeling for me as I was always a happy kid, life was good, I got into a lot of trouble and spent most of my days on the school director’s office (she still loved me, though) but I was strangely happy still and then in my teenage years I suddenly got depressed when my parents told me we were moving out of town, to a city I had never been to and which I knew no one. This was the first time I got sad, but it wasn’t just a simple sadness, it was a really deep depressive sadness (that followed me even when I came back to my hometown because my parents decided it was best for me). So I had never really felt sad, only sad.
So what should I do? Try to take a shower? Watch my two most faithful comfort movies (if you were wondering they are Rosemary’s Baby, 1968 dir. Roman Polanski and Call Me By Your Name, 2017 dir. Luca Guadagnino)? Should I dance it out? I really didn’t know what to do so I just stayed laying in bed, listening to the whole This is Billie Holiday playlist on Spotify and, I figured it out it was the best thing I could’ve done.
I’m not really good at felling things to be completely honest, never have been, I’m a Aquarius sun, Aquarius dominant, Capricorn Venus woman, I just wasn’t built for that kind of stuff, and when I feel something it always ends up with me wanting to end my life, it may be from being so happy it must not be real so you just have to end things to see if everything is really happening or just feeling the deepest sadness, that may come from nowhere but I don’t really care about the meaning, that makes me feel the most useless, disgusting been.
But, laying in my bed, listening to Blue Moon, I realised, it’s actually good to feel things. Really feel them, search for the motive of the things you feel. It gives you comfort, more than comfort movies actually. You get to know yourself, which, at first might not be something you want to do but I promise that you will turn out a better person than you had imagined.
Starting to love yourself (and I say this by experience) might be very difficult but it begins with letting yourself feel: happiness, anger, love or sadness, all of it, and maybe even all at once. But letting yourself feeling is the most freeing thing you could ever do to yourself, this is true freedom. Being able to feel.
I learned in this long, sad afternoon that feeling sadness isn’t that bad, its a chance to change something in your life that until this moment you hadn’t noticed it bothered you, it’s a chance to do things right for others and especially for yourself.
Now, it may be just longing for the spring, this cold, alone, sad nights aren’t very helpful, but maybe try to remember of of fields of sunflowers, dancing with your friends at night with a hot breeze touching your skin that your loose dress is showing, reading a book under the stars, drinking iced coffee when its actually hot enough to drink it or smoking the first cigarette of the day under a tree at a park. Try to remember that you were happy, and you are destined to be happy again.
-by Ana Luisa Infante Malachias