Category: thoughts

31 October​​ 2018

I don’t feel so bad today. I think.

I woke up at 9:30 a.m. and decided not to go to my bio lecture because I think that it is a waste of my time. I hate biology.

I ate cheerios and immediately felt guilty afterward.

I submitted my essay to the very nice professor who granted me an extension (I told him about my crippling depression). Which made me realize that I should probably be asking for more help.

I told Her Campus about my crippling depression too (ironic because I’m working on the mental health campaign). So they’re giving me time off.

I finally have an appointment tomorrow with BU’s student health services so I guess I’ll finally have help (??).

I keep having nightmares that leave me panic-stricken in the middle of the night. I always feel guilty for waking Joe up but it is so hard for me to fall back asleep. His breathing helps steady mine.

I can’t remember the last time I called my dad and I always feel guilty thinking about it. I can’t call him yet – he’ll ask me how things are and I can never lie to him. But I can’t tell him how much I’m struggling because I need to prove to him that I can be an independent adult.

I have an article I’m supposed to write for my journalism class that’s due in a couple of days. I like this class a lot. And my professor is incredibly inspiring. But I’m scared of all the deadlines I will miss because of my mental health. I haven’t missed any yet because I’m really pushing myself.

This post sucks but it made me feel a little bit better so I guess that’s okay. I still feel incredibly lost but I’m trying.

-D

 

*I realized after I posted this that today was Halloween. So, Happy Halloween! It’s kinda sad that I forgot actually, it’s one of my favorite holidays.

the truth

I haven’t been feeling so great lately.

Mental health has always been something that I’ve talked about as a thing of the past. But it isn’t. Not at all. I’ve had my fair share of relapses, but every time I sink a little deeper, I know that I can make my way up. I’m not so sure this time.

I don’t know what’s happening. I feel like I am trying so hard to be okay because I know it isn’t easy for the people around me. And it sure as hell isn’t easy for me either. All the days have blended in with one another and I feel as if I am losing myself. All I want to do is stay in bed and sleep forever. But I know that I can’t. I know that I have responsibilities. I’m supposed to go to college and get straight A’s. Be a good role model for my younger sisters. My parents have invested in me. My family looks up to me. I want to give up. But I can’t.

At the same time, I don’t want to give up. I’m grateful for my life. It’s been a good one. To Nina, Sara, Joe, and Dena: thank you for always supporting me and taking care of me. I hope I haven’t taken anything for granted. I love all of you so much. But I’m not so sure that I can be fixed. I’m not so sure I even have the energy to want to be fixed. I just don’t know anything anymore.

How do you tell people who love you that you can’t do this anymore? That you are just so so tired? That you just want to sink deeper and deeper into yourself until you disappear? That you just. want. to. sleep.

You can’t.

The point of this blog is for me to get my feelings out and to tell the truth. For the longest time, I thought that I always had to write something happy – people love reading happy stories, right? Or if I wrote something sad, it would have to be about how “things are so much better now” or how I learned so much or how I suddenly discovered myself.

But that is not what this post is. I haven’t reached any sort of resolution or conclusion. I’m more lost than I have ever been before. I need help and I don’t know how to get it. I’m tired of trying.

a letter to my madness

Dear Madness,

sad rain girl

The days keep getting harder and harder. I really wish we weren’t this sad. I know that we’re in this together and that we should work together to make things right. But you make it so damn hard for me to want to help when all you do is fuck everything up. I don’t know what to say to you because I’ve tried everything and nothing seems to work. Nothing seems to be enough. I’m tired. Please stop making me go through this again. Everything hurts and this is unfair. I want to enjoy life. I want to wake up early and drink orange juice and pet my kittens and go to bed without waking up and crying in the middle of the night. I’ve accepted you, I’ve reasoned with you, I’ve made you almost disappear a couple of times. Don’t I get points for that? I have taken you home with me and introduced you to my family. They’ve accepted you too. Why isn’t that enough for you? Why do you keep coming back to haunt me? You’ve been my shadow for a long long time now. I’ve gotten too used to you. Please leave me alone.

— Spilled

a conversation

him: take off your shirt

me: I, um, I don’t think–

him: c’mon baby, I know you want to feel good

me: I don’t know if I–

him: I’ll take it off for you

I have lost so much of myself in past relationships

so many countless hours of calls that I didn’t want to answer

endless murmurs of no’s that end up becoming maybes and then yeses

it wasn’t his fault that I didn’t want to do anything

wasn’t his fault that I was incapable of saying no

that I couldn’t say no

because I wanted it to be good

I wanted to be good

I still get flashbacks from times I would rather not remember

I still ask myself every day why I did those things

why I said those things when I wanted to cry

why I let him take off my shirt and unhook my bra

why I said it was okay, keep going, it’s fine, it doesn’t hurt

but it wasn’t okay, I wanted to stop, and it did hurt

did I really want to be loved that badly?

to have ruined all the parts with dignity left in me?

was I incapable of loving myself?

even now, I still struggle to say no when I don’t want to do something

and I’m slowly learning that saying no doesn’t make me weak

it doesn’t make me any less of a person

saying no makes me strong

because it means that I am choosing myself

I am choosing to love myself

things i’m scared of

I’m scared of ghosts that make lights flicker and floorboards that creak. I’m scared of failing to make my parents proud of me. I’m scared of running out of time. That no matter what I do, it won’t be enough because I will never be enough. I’m scared that people won’t like me because I’m not interesting enough. I’m scared of spiders. Big, hairy spiders. I’m scared that no one will ever truly understand how I’m feeling because I don’t say anything. I’m scared that no one will try to know me. I’m scared of all the boys men on the streets when I walk home alone at 2AM. I’m scared that as the years go by, I’m losing more and more of myself and eventually I will have nothing left. I’m scared of how deep I can sink. I’m scared of all the relapses and setbacks that will inevitably happen. I’m scared of dying. I don’t know where I will go. I’m scared of childbirth. I’m scared of the disappointment I feel when I wake up in the morning and realize that I am still alive. I’m scared of how well I can fake a smile to make people believe that I am okay. I’m scared of how much people do not know about me. I am scared of falling in love because of all the boys who have used me and ripped me up into teeny tiny pieces. I’m scared that people will leave me. Even though it’s happened a thousand times over and over. I’m scared that I will never be able to love anyone. I’m scared that no one will ever love me. I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared of myself and what I am capable of doing.

simple truths

adulting meIt’s hard to tell the truth. But here’s my version. Within each statement is a simple truth, just how I feel. If you think that this is how I’m projecting my relapse – you couldn’t be more wrong. I would have never posted this a year ago, or hell, even a month ago. I don’t think I could’ve even gotten myself to write this. I know these aren’t great sunshiny feelings but they’re my feelings and I’m working on them. This isn’t a call for help. I’m proud of myself, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I can’t believe I’m including a picture of myself in this. I hate having my picture taken but I think it’s important for me to realize that I am a part of others’ memories and that they actually love me. Thank you for being a part of my journey, I wouldn’t be here without everyone’s love and support.

Here are my truths.

 

I am nineteen.

I have accomplished nothing.

 

I like writing.

But I am not good at it.

 

I have had my heart broken twice.

I’m scared to fall in love again.

 

I don’t like it when strangers look at me.

I think they’re mentally stripping me.

 

I’ve been taking sleeping pills every night for the past month.

Because when it gets too late at night, I want to hurt myself.

 

I miss my father a lot.

But I still remember the belt he used to strike me with.

 

I love reading.

I need to escape. I need to forget.

 

I paint my nails often.

Because if I look put together, no one can tell that I’m falling apart.

 

I like getting sick.

Because having the flu is a better excuse for me to stay in bed than depression.

 

I have recurring nightmares of drowning.

I’m scared of the disappointment I feel when I wake up.

 

I’m always sunshine and rainbows.

Because if I’m not, no one will like me.

 

I don’t like it when people tell me to shut up.

It’s taken me a while to find my voice. 

 

I intend to keep it.

 

 

 

 

relapse

black and blue

still stains my skin

still stains my soul

from nights i don’t want to remember

nights i cannot seem to forget

why do i do this to myself?

 

my fault

always my fault

i wanted it to be good

i wanted to be good

 

i keep sinking

into this hole i keep digging

the hole inside my heart

somehow keeps expanding

 

you call it art

but it tears me apart

inside, always keeping it

inside

 

— i am falling apart

 

solid ground

Apr 5, 2018 – 10:34PM

Skinny Love – Birdy

I’ve been feeling out of sorts lately, like something is wrong but not quite enough for me to say I’m depressed, because I’m not, trust me. I’m not depressed. But something is a little off. And I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like an empty shell, moving about day to day without really paying attention to what’s going on. I feel almost guilty for feeling dissatisfied with my life.

There’s this sense of familiarity with everything I do – wake up, go to class, go to the gym (sometimes), Netflix, homework (sometimes), and sleep. Oh, and all the meals (and things with friends) in between that. This pretty much is my every day routine. It’s not a terrible one, right? I mean, I think it’s pretty well-rounded.

But one day, as I was standing in the shower watching the warm droplets glide down my arms and stomach, I was struck with this sensation. Like something was wrong. I still don’t know how to describe it. It was almost a reminder – a slap in the face, perhaps, mocking me for how hard I’m always trying. No matter how many extracurricular activities I surround myself with, I’m always filled with this almost-guilt – what if it isn’t enough?

I feel like it’s middle school again, it’s the first day of school, and I’m surrounded by a sea of strangers. I feel like it’s the first time I’m about to fly thousands of miles alone to a foreign country. I feel like it’s the first time I’m leaving home, but I’m not. I feel like it is the first time having sex and I’m scared and nervous. I feel sick to my stomach all the time. I’m watching the world go by in slow motion yet time is passing so quickly – there aren’t enough hours in a day. I feel stuck. Guilty? Lonely. Unmotivated. Confused. Uncomfortable. Unsettled. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost.

My only two rules in life are to be kind and to do things out of love. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of this feeling of almost-guilt, this vulnerability – I will never be able to erase how lost I feel. And I’m scared. That even now, at 18, everything seems to be so in place, yet I feel like the world will swallow me whole at any given moment.

I am looking for solid ground. I can’t find it. Will I be feeling this way when I’m 28? 40? Lost. I am so lost.