self-respect

The kindest thing I ever did for myself in terms of love was letting it go when it no longer fought for me knowing that love shouldn’t be something I must set myself on fire for just to keep hold of it—for that’s not passion—that’s crap.
Juansen Dizon

being

“Slow down.”

The Uber driver looked up quizzically but it didn’t matter. Time stood still for me at the back of the car, as I watched the street signs change. The empty Boston roads stirred in me strange feelings that I couldn’t really pinpoint. I felt small. A speck of dust in the universe.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked, bewildered.

“Yes.”

I had never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I wondered if moments like this could ever be my own. Moments where I did nothing and simply allowed time to wash over me. Moments to myself that I didn’t have to share or explain to anyone.

I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to do anything, I just wanted to be.

Life is a series of linear events that eventually leads everyone to the same outcome: death. It is inevitable. I don’t know why I spend so much time worrying about school, grades, and what other people think of me, when in the end, it is all the same.

Yes, I should strive to be the best version of myself, but isn’t it kind of pointless? Life is a game I’m not supposed to win. No one is supposed to win. We’re all here to play, aren’t we?

Like some wise person said: it is not the destination, but the journey. We need to stop thinking about the future and what could be, and just be.

Slow down, and think for a second; aren’t you where you’re supposed to be?

infinite ocean-pool

I’m floating. I’m lying on my back and staring up – basking underneath the sun’s rays. I am floating on an infinite ocean-pool alone. Floating, for the most part, sounds like something good, right? A good floaty feeling, perhaps. But this is not the case. Floating in water- body about one-third below the surface, bobbling and balancing – does not feel good. There is no support, and although my heart is reaching toward the surface, it is not getting anywhere. It will only ever be just at the surface of the water.

This strange trickly sense of floating reminds me of feeling numb. But, with a twist. Ears below water, and eyes on the clouds, I am both above and below at the same time. I’m here in the present, but I’m also not. The water beneath me sets everything in slow motion and the air above me reminds me that time is passing normally.

How do I push myself up from the water to get my entire body up to the surface? There’s nowhere to go, and I don’t want to use all my energy. I’m already using a lot of energy trying to balance myself between underwater and over-water.

So I plug my nose and close my eyes. I let myself sink. I drown.

afraid of being

oh how sad it is
to be so afraid
of being too happy
because you feel
that any minute,
things will change
that happiness will be ripped
right out
of your fingertips
the moment that
you claim it;
the moment that you
start to realize
that you deserve it

Kai Masa

upside-down smiley faces

I felt sad today and it was great.

Wait, what?

I think it’s important to be able to distinguish the difference between being sad and being depressed. To me, being depressed is a constant state, and being sad is a feeling that passes. (Depression passes too, eventually, but you know what I mean).

I felt sad today and it was great. Because that meant that I wasn’t sad to begin with. Not sad, not depressed, just okay, and I didn’t even realize it.

I feel strange and excited and floaty because I’m finally seeing progress. I’m proud of myself, I think. Yay. I’m not really sure what to write about anymore because I’m in a pretty good mood and I’m not feeling ranty or angsty. So, I’m going to go enjoy the rest of this day. Thanks for checking in, I hope you have a sad-happy day too!

Today, I woke up with the strangest sense of clarity.

I’m more awake than I’ve ever been. And I think everything is going to be okay.

i am not a broken doll

iii. a letter to my future self

Hello,

Everything is sort of a shitstorm right now. I wish I had your sage advice to get me through this rough “patch” that I’ve been going through. In quotation marks because it isn’t just a patch, or a phase, it’s an era. Dramatic, I know, but I am you and you are dramatic. Anyway, I hope your days are full of sunshine and love and I hope that you get to go to bed feeling safe in someone’s arms. Or by yourself. It doesn’t really matter you’re the OG. You’re number one. You don’t need anyone to validate you. Repeat it after me. I don’t need anyone to validate me. I hope you love yourself like you love others. Unconditionally, infinitely.

If you aren’t there yet, that’s okay too. These things take time, trust me, I know. And I’m also you, so you’ve gotta trust me. I know how hard it is for you to love yourself. How hard it is when your invasive thoughts intrude in your daily life. Please just try to ignore those thoughts and remember, those thoughts do not make you who you are. Your love and kindness is what makes you who you are. I hope you know that.

I guess I’m writing all of this because I want someone to tell me these things. But that’s okay, I’ll just tell it to myself. Afterall, I don’t need anyone to validate me.

I’ve been trying most of my life to love myself and it’s still a work in progress. The important thing, though, is that I am still trying. So damn hard. That’s got to count for something, right?

Anyway, Dnee from the future, drink a lot of water, eat lots of healthy food because you’ve only got one body and one life. Take care of it. Live your best life, girl. You deserve it.

Love,

20 year old Dnee

4/28/19

liquid guilt

I’m supposed to be reading psychology articles for my discussion. I talk about that a lot. Not my social psychology class, but what I’m “supposed” to be doing. I say that so many times in my blog, in a day, in general.

When I say I’m “not supposed to” drop classes or not write or have too much fun, Joe always tells me that there is no “supposed to.” And he’s right. I guess it’s just normal (where I’m from, anyway), for kids to go to school, then college for four years, then grad school. But here I am, abroad. Living with my boyfriend, with seven animals in our house, barely passing my one class… and maybe graduating in four years. Or four and a half.

Most of my day, if I’m not consumed by anxiety, I feel a guilt that runs so deep inside me I feel like I want to throw up. I’m in the states because I’m in college. But I’m barely a college student at all. I’m struggling so much but I can’t return to Bangkok because I won’t be able to get the mental health resources that I need.

I’m not doing what I’m “supposed” to do. But am I really supposed to be doing? Studying? Taking care of my mental health? Getting good grades? Pleasing my boyfriend? Getting an internship? Going out with my friends? What am I supposed to do? I wish there were a set structure that I can follow. But all I have are splattered feelings everywhere – messy, inconvenient.

I have a guilt that runs so deep in my veins it has become a part of me. I’m not sure how to get rid of it. But you know what the most fucked up part is?

I’m not sure I really want to.

she doesn’t like girls

she has honey colored hair.

and honey colored eyes.

i wonder,

does she taste like honey too?

i get drunk on her breath

her lips so close

i close my eyes and i wake up — disappointed

in reality.

she is so beautiful and kind.

but i don’t think she likes girls.

i’m too afraid to ask.

i hope she finds someone who makes her happy.

4/22

I couldn’t make myself get up today.

Or yesterday, or the day before. Even on my birthday (420 btw.)

But after nearly two hours of rolling around, trying to make myself comfortable, I dragged myself out of bed with only one thing on my mind: coffee.

So, here I am, at Newton Corner’s Starbucks, wishing that I’d brought my charger. Oh well. I haven’t written in a while so I thought I’d just sit down and let out whatever comes to mind. I’m not going to edit this. Because I want to come back to this post one day and read only honest things.

Everyone expects me to get better. I expect myself to get better. It’s just happening so slowly. I do feel different. I no longer wake up disappointed that I’m still breathing. I’d say that’s progress!

I guess I’m kind of disappointed that the process of healing is going slower than I thought it would. I don’t really know what to do.

It draws me in every morning. My bed. Which, sounds ridiculous, I know. But it’s true. I feel as if I am made out of white bedsheets, tucked in neatly under the mattress. I try to fight the urge to sink into the bed. Because once I stop fighting, it pulls me under and I drown. I drown all day and all night, trying to escape. But I just can’t.

There aren’t enough metaphors in the world to describe what depression feels like. It just feels awful. And I feel awful that I’m always writing about depression. But that’s the thing, you see. Depression takes over your life. You can’t escape it.

Sometimes, I forget that I’m depressed. When I’m watching a really funny tv show, laughing really hard with my friends, or when I’m high. But it always comes back. No matter how much I distract myself, at the end of the day, when I go to bed – it is still there.

I’ve had two coffees now, both tall, iced caramel macchiatos with extra shots of espresso. Joe’s here now. He rode the bus from school to here. Thank god for him. I had my charger this whole time and there was an outlet directly below my seat this WHOLE TIME!! (He pointed that out to me).

He’s bullet journaling right now (which has really helped me), but I forgot mine at home.

The other day, Joe and I were carrying boxes down to our storage unit in the basement. As he was opening the door, the boxes wobbled and I let out this mix of a yelp-scream because I didn’t want the box to fall. Joe said something along the lines of, “it’s okay if it falls, they’re just boxes of clothes. If it falls, we’ll just pick it up.” THIS MADE SO MUCH SENSE. It just didn’t occur to me at the time that this was actually no big deal at all.

So, why did my heart race so fast when I thought the box was about to fall? Anxiety, I guess. My to-be advisor said that I liked to be in control, for things to be exactly how I want them. And that couldn’t be more true.

I like being in control. No, I LOVE it. I never realized it could become a problem. I like knowing that my pens are aligned right next to my desk lamp. I like making sure that the bedsheets are tucked in and the pillows over the sheets. I like making sure that my titles are exactly one-third the space of my bullet journal. It’s always been this way.

I used to brush my hair 100 times. Fifty times on each side of my head. I was 10. I wanted to be pretty, I wanted to look like an adult. So, I had a set routine (like adults do, right?). I had to do homework right after school. I had to shower RIGHT BEFORE going to bed. And I always applied lotion on my skin so I would always be soft. I didn’t want to age badly. Whatever that means.

Anyway, as an adult, I don’t have a routine. I definitely do not put on lotion or brush my hair (Joe brushes my hair for me, bless him.) And I definitely do not do homework. I’ve concluded that the adult world is a mess that my 10 year old self did not see. But I also learned that it is okay. Because messes can always be cleaned up.

4/10

The world feels distant. Muted. Like I’m floating in a dream that isn’t really my own. I’m in a one-person game without a goal.

I’m forcing myself to write this blog post. To salvage whatever is left in me that I can find. I’ve been dropping classes and missing group projects. I’m on new medication, upped-dosage medication and I still don’t feel completely like myself. I hope I’m not destined to feel this way forever.

Destiny. A strange word, is it not? I don’t understand it. I’m not sure I believe in it. Perhaps it is my way of coping with the world – blaming “destiny” for my problems and situations that I’m in. Because if destiny isn’t set and fate isn’t real, then what? All my problems are because of me, and I’m stuck here where I am, because. of. me.

I feel like a failure in more ways than one. I can’t write, and I can barely read. Depression has affected my daily cognitive functions, leaving me impaired and hopeless. I blame depression for most of my problems, but what if it is just me who is incapable of performing normally? What if I’m just lazy? I ask myself this question all the time. Why don’t I want to do things? Be normal? Go out with my friends? Why do I feel so small? Why do I feel like the world is crushing me slowly? Like I’m drowning in the middle of the ocean while there is a huge storm going on at the same time? Who will find me in the storm when I can’t even find myself?

I have never been more lost. Every time I relapse, I say that. I have never been more lost. It keeps getting worse and worse, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I am a prisoner in my own mind.

quotes

“i like your toes because they’re cute and they’re yours” – joe

“fuck me in the ass because i love jesus” – dena

“i want an in-unit washer and dryer for my birthday” – me

“your record for getting through hard days is 100%” – jen

“you guys i had a dream that i snorted cocaine” – dena

“are you coffee beans cause you just got roasted” – kristen

“when you’re not sober, time moves in waves, like lasers. It’s like 2D versus 3D.” – me, stoned

“yeah, it’s like squares and then triangles. Or circles, then ovals.” – dena, stoned

“when we think we know but we don’t actually know, because when we know, we know.” – dena, stoned

“you are not a sir, you are a serf.” – kristen

“you are not a mister, you are a mistake.” – kristen

“as springtime approaches, crushing suicidal thoughts give way to more light hearted and carefree suicidal thoughts.” – ken m (@horseysurpeise on Twitter)

“I won’t be in class today due to unexpected mental breakdowns… I guess I deserve a 0 for not being able to handle my own depression.” – me in an email to my professor

“What if I show up [to an exam] and tell him I wanna die lol” “he’d have you committed” – me and kristen

“It’s like you came out of the screen and stabbed me in the heart and it hurt. But in a good way.” – me, about kristen

“Dnee… I have arthritis” “oh my god we need to tell them” “no dude… I don’t have arthritis” – me and Dena’s sense of humor

“If you can’t love a man, think like one. That’s the formula.” – Dena

gratitude

I don’t know what it is with me lately. One moment I’m completely fine — happy, even. Another moment, I feel as if my whole world has been torn apart. I have been getting this strange feeling of, not quite an uncertainty, but an almost-uncertainty. I don’t know how to put it in words.

I feel like a stranger in my own body. Like I’m in a room full of people and it’s the first day of school again and no one looks familiar. Sometimes, when I lie awake at night, I feel so lost. When warm arms hold me close, I feel safe until the thoughts start creeping in. Then, I feel lonely. Empty. Lost. I realize that everything is temporary. This blanket of safety and security is temporary.

This is not meant to be a sad post. Just one of acceptance. Maybe things don’t get better. Maybe I’ll feel this way the rest of my life – a life that I am incredibly grateful to have had.

My life is full of tickles and laughs. Kisses and cuddles. Purrs and piles of clothes. But it also full of uncertainty. Of fear and anxiety. Of sadness and loneliness.

When I journal or blog, I only write about my negative emotions. But I think I’m going to try writing about being happy. I don’t know if I can do it, but I want to. As much as I’ve accepted the way things are, somehow, there’s still a tiny sliver of hope left in me that things actually might get better.

Yes, things are shittier now than they have been when I was 16. Things are messier and more complex. But in a way, I have never felt more whole. I guess it’s all part of becoming an adult.

I want to be better. I want to love life all the time. I want to be happy. So, I am going to actively try to appreciate and love life.

Here are the people who make me smile – the people who make me feel a little less uncertain about where I’m supposed to be.