I often wonder to myself, Why do I write how I feel and post it on a website for who knows how many people to read?
I honestly don’t know. I’ve attempted journals, I have dozens of half filled notebooks, but writing to myself made me feel just as alone, crazy and depressed as not writing did. I kept so many deep dark secrets to myself, and by doing that I isolated myself. I hope, with time, that my writing can become words and my words will become strong enough to seek help. I hope that someone reads my posts and knows they aren’t alone; that someone can relate.
Pain, all kinds, demands to be felt and I know while suffering with depression the pain is overwhelming and you wish more then anything to be free from that pain, that never ending physical and emotional pain that weighs on your soul like 100 bags of dirt. I know feeling like life will never get better, I know feeling worthless, unwanted, ugly, fat, defeated. I wanted more then anything to know I wasn’t alone in feeling like this, and I want you to know your not alone. We all have dark days, some of those days last for years but they won’t always be there.
I understand being diagnosed with depression and being put on antidepressants can feel overwhelming or embarrassing, I felt like I was such a mess up that I couldn’t even produce a hormone that makes me happy, but I’ve come to realize it’s not me. It wasn’t my choice to lack serotonin, just like it wasn’t my dads choice to have ALS.
I need you, your friends, your families to understand that we are not over dramatic, we aren’t just sad, we aren’t just looking for attention. Our disease is distroying us, killing us slowing just like any life threatening illness and without treatment it will kill us. No, not in the same way but the end result is the same.
I still have low days, days where I feel like I’ll never be happy again. They’ve been frequent lately, but I have hope that I can find the strength to come out of this again and experience those days that I felt more alive then ever. Those are the days that I’m grateful I’m still here.
Those are the days that I can see a reason to live, I can picture my own future which is something I could never do before. I laugh and smile, engage in conversations and I am the me I was before my depression.
I know I’m just a faceless blog somewhere in this universe but I promise your worth more then the pain your going through and that life does get better.
I ain’t gonna judge you, I’m just gonna love you. And tonight I’m gonna pray for you.
Please stick around long enough to see the great life God has planned for you.
I Love you
Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.
If you could go back, not in time exactly but to a point in your own life what would you choose? Where would you go? What would you re-live? Would you see a loved one, one more time? Tell an old crush your real feelings? The choice is completely yours.
Now what if you knew your whole life would change if you went back, would you still go?
Would you be willing to change your life today to re-live yesterday? All your memories and experience would be replaced, your life today would be completely different.
Personally, I would give the entire world to go back. Even if I knew my whole life would be different I know it would be worth the risk to return to 2005 and see my grandma once more, to warn my dad, to discourage my uncles decisions. I’d return to 2007/2008 and finish my last year of school, I wouldn’t have gone to that party, I wouldn’t of got molested.
As always my mind is torn. I would LOVE the chance to see my grandma, hug her one last time and hear her voice, tell her I love her and spend time with her I know that loosing her taught me to appreciate the people in my life because they’re gone to quickly. Who would I be without experiencing such guilt? Would I have met the one man that restores my faith in this generation?
I couldn’t live knowing I no longer had him in my life, he’s more important to me then so many people in my family. Except for my mom he’s the one constant person in my life no matter what. I always believed my grandma brought him to me, two years after she passed away he was the one who talked me out of going to be with her.
Getting molested by Ryan brought him and I closer. He was there for me when no one else knew, he comforted me when I was upset over it.
As much as I hate the pain the past brought me, it’s brought along its own joy.
It brought him into my life.
He’s my bestfriend, the first man I loved after B, the first man I woke up with, the first person I go to when I’m hurting, the first one I tell my good news to. The first and last person I talk to everyday. I learned that love, real love, overpowers any hurt feelings, any nasty words and when a person belongs in your life, romantically or just as a friend, they’ll withstand the depths of hell to stay.
Which is what he’s done.
Which brings me to my next dilemma. Years ago we agreed, our friendship is to valuable to risk becoming a couple. We agreed we were better friends. But recently, sadly, I’ve become a slave to what my heart wants; him.
He’s everything I ever wanted in a man, he’s respectful, he works, and he knows the ugly parts of me and still stays.
I hate that my thoughts are constantly clouded by visions of him and I together when I know it’ll never happen. What he wants is something I’ll never be, and I had accepted that, I was moving on. I think, as hard as it’s going to be, I have to distance myself from he. Allow my mind to become clearer and stop reading into things that aren’t even there.
I hate that I can’t be with him, but I understand. He means to much to never have him in my life again even if it means only as a friend.
I’d rather settle for someone else then hold on to something that’s never going to happen.
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:17-18 KJV
I’m both jealous and envious of every person that has been near you, touch you and loved you before I.
I’m jealous that for a moment they held my entire world, and that they may have been better at it.
I’m envious that they were present in your life long before I did. That they know you in a way I never will.
I’ve always been the jealous type, not because I don’t trust men, but because my mind is wired a way that makes me feel as though I am not enough. That I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough. That I’ll never be someone’s first choice, in a relationship or a friendship. I know this is my own anxieties eating away at my soul, but those same anxieties cloud my “sane” mind.
What’s meant to be, in life or in personal relationships, will be. We can not stop the pain, or the bad from happening, just like we cant force happiness and love. We cant wish for rainbows without dealing with the clouds, the storms.
Sometimes I get so caught up in my own pain, my own worries that I fail to see the good around me, I fail to focus on the good things I have; fail to cherish living.
I may not be “perfect” but I should know I am enough.
I should feel proud of all I’ve gone through, maybe I’m not where Or who I want to be but I’m so much more then I was. I’m living through my sorrow now instead of living in it. I’m trying to see things in a positive light, which I’ve never done before. I’ve come to far out of my shell to go back into it.
But still my jealousy of other people, their lives, their relationships bare heavy on my soul. I do not allow my heart to be penitrated by others words, the walls I built so high and thick that I am unable to love, so why am I jealous of those who are able to love? It’s no one else’s fault or concern as to why, at almost 25, I am still single. I know many people who aren’t societies idea of “beauty” that are loved so deeply that it radiates through their bodies making them more beautiful then any Victoria secret model.
Why am I not allowing myself to feel that, why am I searching for perfect when I know perfect does not exist?
Why do I envy people with children and in love when I’m the only thing in my own way?
Basically, I’m my own worse enemy.
To those who follow my blog I’m grateful that you take the time to read my posts, comment and are present. As I stated in my “About” page I’m not looking to be anything big, or somehow become one of those paid bloggers. That’s not my passion, not why I write. I write because it helps me; my pain is blocked by my inability to feel vulnerable around people that may judge me. You, in a sense, do not know “me”, yet in a way you know me better then my closest friends.
Your stepping, inching, into my mind, able to understand me in a way I can’t vocalize to those around me, and afraid to share these words with.
In a way you’ve become my closest, most valuable friends. You’ve seen, read, the ugly that lurks in my soul and you still stay. You know my deepest fears, my truest feelings. I want to thank you for understanding and encouraging me, for simply being here.
Now, the real reason I opened this app this evening.
When was the last time you felt uneasy about something, someone? Unable to truly understand your reasoning or emotions. Why do I feel like I don’t belong here, or why do I feel so scared to be close to this person are thoughts that run through my mind more often then I’d like to admit.
I sound like a broken record and I’m sorry, but I’m going through one of the most exhausting anxiety attacks of my life. I’m not talking a panic attack where my heart is racing and I’m experiencing cold sweats, but the kind of anxiety attack that lasts weeks. I feel judged, I feel uncomfortable every second of everyday. I’m withdrawling from people, finding comfort, which is no comfort at all, within my own mind.
I use to love my job, work was my happy place, my home away from home. Now I dread the moments I spend there, waiting impatiently for my shift to be over, trying to find reasons not to be there, not to go. It’s not that anyone has changed, I’ve changed. I cannot pretend to be happy anymore, I’m not happy. My heart is broken into 2 million pieces and I don’t know how to fix it or even where to start.
I don’t know how people can live their life “normally” after someone they loved has passed I don’t understand how people can find their own strength to be a better person after losing a piece of them. I don’t understand how someone can go about their lives doing the same things they did when their family member or friend was on earth.
My heart is blackened, I do not care about much of anything. I’m tired all the time yet can’t seem to get any rest. I’m restless yet I’m unmotivated.
I know, I really do, that the way I’m “living” isn’t how my dad would want me to be. But it’s hard to think of him gone without feeling defeated. He is the strongest man I even knew and now he’s gone and I no longer have him.
I know I didn’t visit him enough, but I knew he was still fighting
Now he’s not
It makes me question everything. Which brings me back to my question, when was the last time you felt uneasy about something?
Now, I know I’m just emotional and by morning I’ll probably feel and see things in a different way but I can’t help to feel uneasy..
He’s my best friend, but recently and by recently I mean the past week or so, I’ve questioned myself. Do I still have feelings deeper then friendship? Does he?
Why does he always make me feel so uneasy yet so comfortable, why do our hugs seem to linger?
It’s a long story that I may get into in a future post, but he said something to me that hurt me so badly that I turned cold to any feelings I may of had towards him and still to this day my heart will not allow me to feel freely when it comes to him.
I can’t seem to shake this angry, jealous, hurt feeling I get everytime he talks about other girls or takes care of his ex’s daughter and I don’t like it.
My whole world is just spinning, I’m unable to process my feelings without ending up in another. I go from happy to sad, from sad to furious.
I hate it
I wish I had the power to fix it, but I don’t know how.
Everything’s the same but it all feels so different.
I need different, I need some time in a beautiful place, no phone, no work, no stress. I need to smile again, laugh, be who I was before my dad passed away.
It’s not just that my dad died. I know that.
My feelings are hurt. I feel like I’ve put so much into my job, I helped do new line on my nephews 4th birthday, I’m there whenever they need me. Why am I making less then a sales associate? Why am I making less then the people that are only available 2-3 times a week? I understand that I make more then minimum wage, and that I should be grateful that I have a job, that I get hours; I am, I really am. But I’ve started to feel so taken advantage of, I feel so resentful. I would never laugh at someone who told me they were on the phone with income assistance trying to get help to get their loved one cremated. How is struggling to grant a mans dying wish funny? I’m sorry my mom and I don’t make triple digit incomes like you and your husband. I’m sorry we don’t have money to go on vacations monthly. We struggle and laughing at our misfortunes really bothered me.
I use to feel so comfortable at work, I don’t anymore.
I’m struggling so much just to go to work, I’m struggling to not fall back into my old ways where I would just not show up to a job and ignore phone calls. I’m constantly battling myself, trying to beat my depression.
I’m angry that my “best friend” hasn’t even tried to see me since my dad died.
I’m annoyed that everyone assumes I’m dating the only real friend I have left. Putting thoughts like that in my head is just making me question myself and our friendship. It’s making me withdraw myself from him. I’m pushing the only person I really care about, other then my family, away because of other people’s words. I know we are better as friends, I know we love each other but arent in love with each other. Yes, I know best friends make the best partners, and he’s everything I look for in a man but his friendship is more important to me then trying to risk it all for “love”.
I hate that everyday my eyes burn because no matter what I do I end up in tears. My eyes are constantly blood shot, I’m constantly tired. Every time I attempt to talk about what’s bothering me I shut down, unable to get anything out other then “I don’t want to talk about it”
But I do want to talk about it.
I want to scream it all out, I want to ugly cry until I feel better, I want people to ask me how I am and I can tell them I’m terrible. I want to tell them I’m not good, I’m not fine & I’m not living.
A piece of me, a huge piece, has died. A part of who I am is dead. How can anyone be fine after that? How can anyone expect someone to be fine after loosing someone they love? Half of the reason I’m here isn’t here, half the reason I’m alive isn’t. So no I’m not living. No you can’t say or do anything to make it better but not saying anything doesn’t help either.
I don’t want people to treat me like I’m broken, but I want people to listen when I want to talk about it.
I still haven’t seen you in my dreams daddy. Where are you?
I try, I try to be positive. I try to think of the good things I have in my life, but it’s so hard.
My life wasn’t rough growing up, I had a pretty good childhood. I had friends, I had a family that loved me and that was more then a lot of my friends had. I was the happiest kid, always with a smile on my face, my eyes always sparkled with happiness.
I wish more then anything I was still that person.