Where have I been

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How has it been nearly 4 years since I have looked at my blog?

Maybe life got in the way, maybe it has been hard to pen my feelings down and search the inner depths of my being. One thing I know, is that I need an outlet. Placing my life on my statuses is maybe not the most professional way to deal with how I feel, to let go of my frustrations, to feel heard, to scream to the world that I am not ok, to maybe, just maybe have someone ask me if I am ok.

Where have I been, and what has happened in the meantime. Saying that life has been one big downward spiral is an understatement. Somewhere between bad decisions, a suicide attempt, and basically just messing up my own life, one small step, or rather giant leap at a time. But way too much to get to in one single post. So where do I start? Maybe at the beginning, maybe the way I currently feel, or maybe a combination of the giant pile of a shit show that I have presented to the world.

Maybe for today, I should just discuss my feelings and slowly work from there. Not tackle everything in one go, as what I like to do, and make a mess of things. As always, more, better, everything at ones, prove yourself, prove you are worthy, prove that you are capable, prove to the world that despite my mental health, I am a normal functioning human being. However, without people actually knowing how much I really struggle, wear the mask, wear the smile, get up. dress up, show up, but always, always remember, wear the fucking mask.

I believe that I have become an advocate for mental health, making people realise it is ok, ok to struggle, ok to feel your feelings, ok to use your words. Talking people through depressive episodes, mentoring, helping, encouraging, making them believe that they have got this, that they are strong that they are capable, showing them thru my own life that your mental health does not define you as a person, does not determine your successes. But we all know that that is bullshit, because as we have come to learn, you are never really ok. You pretend to be, you make yourself believe that you are, and fuck, somedays you actually believe it. But that is just one of your other personalities making you dilutional, playing games, moving the chemicals in your brain around like a chess pieces, then… checkmate. Reality of losing the game becomes overwhelming, like a mud slide consuming everything in its path. You are just a vessel, being used by your dysfunctional brain, to act out what it wants you to. Like a puppet, dangling in the hands of its master, acting out exactly what it wants you to, you try, damn you try to cut the strings, to become independent, to cut loose, to be free, but the reality remains, you will never be free. Then you realise that somewhere between trying to help others, you lose yourself some more. Becoming the therapist makes you believe that you have got your shit together, because you have experienced it, or, experiencing it, has made you some sort of professional, when in fact you are just a fraud, because how am I supposed to help others, when I cannot even help myself?

Depression is not something you choose, feeling depressed is not a decision, it is not something you just get over. But unlike a physical illness that can be seen, there come the misperception that you choose this. I mean really? Why do you want to feel that way? Why do you dwell on the negative? why do you make yourself sad? Put on some make up, go out, have fun, life is what you make of it, if you isolate yourself, you are making yourself miserable, you are in control off how you feel!! If only it was that easy. Then the questions, what happened today? Because there always have to be a tangible explanation as to why you feel sad, because it just does not make sense for you to cry for no reason, well on the rare occasion that I actually allow myself to cry, because that is still something I struggle with, allowing myself to show weakness. How do you explain that you are just sad, that you are just overwhelmed, that you just have this feeling of impending doom, when nothing actually happened. You are just being dramatic, you just want others to feel sad, you want sympathy, you are manipulative, you are overreacting. Look at your life, be grateful for what you have, you are being selfish for being unhappy when you have such a wonderful life. You have nothing to complain about, or be upset about, you make it all about yourself. JUST SNAP THE FUCK OUT OF IT!!! be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

Be grateful for what? Because you fuck up every relationship you have, because of your rejection dysphoria, so that people do not hurt you, because you believe that that is what they will eventually do, so you push them away. Grateful that I cannot make small talk, be grateful that some days I cannot even do the basics of my job, due to my social anxiety. That you cannot even get yourself to answer your phone, because you cannot at that moment speak to anyone. Grateful that I destroy every good thing that has ever happened to me because I do not believe that I am worthy. Grateful that I have resorted to digging holes into my skin, just so that I can feel physical pain, to try and justify the inner pain that I feel. But I suppose that is better than waking up in ICU, because somewhere along the line, that “chosen” sadness has pushed you across the line, to take a handful of pills.

However, I am grateful, grateful that I am not actively suicidal, however, if I get hit by a bus tomorrow, it would be ok aswell.