Darkness.

Like the bottom of the ocean, the vast night sky, it captivates me. Everything seems so silent, all around me the world is sleeping, dreaming. & here I am, lying awake in the darkness that surrounds me, trying to find ways to escape the nightmares you left me with.

How cruel it was for you to leave this world, without answers, without explanation, without saying goodbye. I am haunted by you, your death, and the people you left behind every night in my dreams – my nightmares. I see you, I feel you, I feel your pain, I watch you die, you come alive. You bring your son to a dinner I am at, and you disappear just as he tells me he’s happy your back. But you never come back, you’ll never come back, your gone. Your body is now in its final resting place, your soul is no longer in the physical world, you are no longer here. My heart breaks. My heart is broken. You had so much life left to live, didn’t you know that? Didn’t you know how many people loved you, how much we all cared about you? How much we miss you? How none of us can sleep, how much we wish we could have helped you. I’m sorry we didn’t, I’m sorry you suffered so much: I’m sorry you left.

I don’t know the reason. I doubtI ever will but an amazing friend, father, and man ended his life on October 31 2017, at the tender age of only 29 years old. He was my rock through so many of my depressive moments, and he was always so strong. I wish I knew in those final days what changed in him. I’m so embarrassed to say that I had stopped talking to him weeks before his death, and can’t help but blame myself for not being there for him. Shane Charles Whatley, I hope you are at peace; I miss you so much, I love you, thank you for taking the time to break down my walls and showing me that all men are not the same. I will remember you forever.♥️

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Old habits

Darkness engulfs me, I really can’t seem to find a way out; maybe I’m not really looking hard enough. I stand at the edge of a steep cliff centimeters away from falling to my death, it’s overwhelming and I take a step forward. I am thrown back into reality, fluorescent lights shine brightly above me, cooking my brain and making it feel as though my head is boiling over and about to explode. I am brought back to my feet planted firmly on hard floors, back to expectations, and standards I don’t think I’ll ever measure up to. Back to the feeling of being the size of a grain of sand, back to feeling insignificant, back to being replaceable; and with a single misspoken word, or action I am back in that dark place, blinded by the dark midnight black that surrounds me.

My chest tightens and it becomes almost unbearable to breath, to move, to think. Those typical nervous butterflies have turned into angry wasps and are fighting for a way out. I am shaking, I am clammy and cold, yet I am dripping sweat and I feel as though I just drank 50 espresso shots, 5 Red Bull’s, and washed it all down with speed. I am fidgety and I am hyper-vigilant to anything and anyone around me; I am attempting to force myself to focus on a single task so I do not fly away like a helium balloon. Nothing helps, my over stimulated heart is dancing with the angry wasps and I feel faint. I return to that I-must-have-been-hit-in-the-head feeling and slowly collapse into the darkness; hoping I’ll find a way out.

My past, visions of all the things I did wrong, all the times where I was made to feel inferior to those around me – to those who are suppose to be my family, suppose to be my friends – plays over and over again, reminding me of how worthless I am, how I have never been and never will be enough for anyone.

After what feels like a life time, the panic and anxiety hides its self away and I can feel “normal” for a few beautiful moments. But it never goes away, no drug or drink, no prescription for Antidepressants or Anti-anxiety medicine can take away this worthless feeling, this self distructive behavior, or the constant reminder that I have failed young me, I have failed her, my parents, and God so many times, and it breaks my heart; because 7 year old me had so many dreams.

you know that weird feeling you get when you are pushed under water and someone sits on you, the overwhelming sensation of panic that overwhelms you to the point that our heart begins to race and you begin to only see darkness. When you physically feel as though you are floating away and watching your body struggle to return to the land. You can see your friends laughing, unsure if they are actually laughing at the fact that they are hurting you, or if in their immaturity they don’t realize that you are actually suffering. Just as you begin to feel the light surround you, you feel your friend get off you and you are gasping for air above the surface. 

It feels like a life time when you’re in that moment, yet you know it was seconds. 

That’s what depression and anxiety feels like. In that moment you feel as though nothing you can do will help you escape that dark and terrifying place. Your heart rate elevates to the point where you can physically see your pulse under your skin and you begin to sweat and yet nothing is physically holding you down. 

Depression makes it so I cannot looking forward to the future, it makes me see the world in a very dull and grey tone. I am simply surviving – not living. Depression eats away at me, it makes the small stuff seem giant and the big things – like death and change – seem enormous. It causes my hair to fall out, and my stomach to turn.

Anxiety feels like everyone is staring at you, it feels like you are trapped in a glass box with no escape, with no where to go. It makes my lungs constrict and my heart to beat so fast it feels as though it might explode. Anxiety feels like getting hit in the head with a volley ball and passing out, it feels like you are hot and cold all at once. My body shakes and I am unable to look at anyone, talk to anyone, or feel comfortable in my own skin.

Together they sink me.

O1.

It was like you were the light; Bright, vibrant and attractive 

      And I was the unexpecting insect; curious and in awe of you and so, I risked my life just to be close to you. 

But I soon realized that, the closer I flew towards your glow, the more damaging you became. 

    Your touch sent fire to my veins and restricted my air. Your guiding glow became my home. No matter how much you hurt me, no matter how many times your power knocked me to the ground, I would collected myself, wipe off the dirt, and fly back to you hoping that this time would be the one time you wouldn’t scorch my wings. 

It’s been years since the first night I laid eyes on your light, I am all but a body now. My wings have been burnt to ash and my legs are broken. However, I’m still here, Im still clinging on to the unrealistic hope that you will lift me up with your powerful light and love me the way I love you. 

But all I am is a bug, and you, you are a radiant and powerful light. 

Rambling…

My reason for starting this blog was to have a place to write everything down and know that it’d still be there in the rare occurrence that things may turn out for the better, but this blog just causes me stress. Knowing that anyone – especially people who try so desperately to squeeze into mine and my families’ personal lives – can read all the things that I’ve always kept so deep inside. How am I suppose to comfortably write, blog, share when I’m so concern with who or what is reading my thoughts? I use to find comfort in that thought, the fact that people around the world would read my blog posts and in their own ways connect with me, or perhaps find comfort in knowing that their pain wasn’t abnormal. Now, every time I begin to write my anxiety spikes. My mind shuts down and I am unable to write anything.

But really, what more can I say? What else can I blog about that I haven’t said before? My life is just so repetitive, so boring; its comparable to writing the same sentence over and over again, and yet I do nothing to make it better, nothing to make my life more exciting and more worthy of being called a “life”. I just exist, that is all. I do not live life, or embrace the unpredictable, yet beautiful chaos that life brings. I idle, neither going forward nor backwards, in a place of unhappiness and entrapments. I often feel as though I am living in a glass box, able to see the glorious life that lays just feet away from me and yet I am unable to break, or escape from my enclosure and so I run in circles. I continue to run in circles, day in and day out, to incompetent to see that my glass house has no roof, to” comfortable” in my routine to see what is literally just above me, just feet in the air. I fear that if I do not begin to climb, jump, or reach for a way out I will be in this place forever. Stuck in a life that I am not happy in, stuck re-living the same day repeatedly and calling it a life.

I’ve always had so many excuses, whether it be my dad or my nephews, it was an excuse. I barely visited my dad, and my nephews didn’t need me as much as I made it seem, but saying I couldn’t leave because of my dad or nephews was easier than accepting the fact that I was just too scared. But fear is normal. Being scared means your stepping out of your comfort zone and making progress in your life. What isn’t normal is how unhappy of a person I am, how I haven’t had a relationship sense tenth grade, that I haven’t been in love sense Brandon, and that I haven’t moved on from things that happened so many years ago.

Why haven’t I moved on?

Why can’t I find the strength to learn from my mistakes and move forward, why haven’t I been living like a typical 20 something? I can’t continue to blame other people and past mistakes for why my present is such a mess.

                      How easy is it for me to say what I know needs to be done yet I am here still, still in the same place I was a year ago; the same place I was in 3 years ago.

I need to stop caring so much for the wellbeing of other people, because lord knows no one cares about me as deeply as I care about them, and begin to focus on me, on what will make me feel better. No matter how hard its going to be. I’m tired of being the person who is always there for everyone else, and yet I am constantly lonely. I am tired of crying in the shower or late at night because I am lonely.

I’m so lonely.

I’ve been so lonely sense the death of my best friend. No one understands, and I don’t know how to explain to people, why her death has messed me up so much. I don’t know how to tell people that she was my comfort. I don’t know how I’m suppose to tell people that she was the 17498646_10158508230045381_4974498748359248487_nonly thing on the planet that could calm me down when my anxiety was beating me down, how she was the only reason my depression didn’t consume me – she always knew when I was depressed and she’d curl up in my arms and gently lick away the tears from my face. She was the one thing in this world that I couldn’t imagine losing; and then I lost her. It was so sudden, it was so painful, I didn’t even get to sit with her, tell her I loved her one last time, and comfort her while they ended her suffering. I’m still so angry that I didn’t get the chance to make the decision whether I saw her pass away or not, and I resent my mom because of it. I love my mom, so much, but I hate what she did. I hate that I had to be in the dark about my best friend, and that I was at work while my bug took her last breath. I wish my mom would have allowed me to make the decision, I wish she knew how angry I am at her for taking that away from me. Jayda was more mine to me than just a dog, and I thought my mom knew that; it hurts so much that she doesn’t get it. I wanted to be there, that’s why I stayed up for 3 days making sure she didn’t die alone – yet she still did.  She died in a place that was unfamiliar, with nothing and no one. That breaks my heart more than anything, knowing she was so alone, and I hate myself everyday for it.                    

I just wish I knew why I lost her… She was my baby…

That’s another thing…

I’m almost 27 and I’m no closer to having a baby than I was 5 years ago, actually I was closer 5 years ago, and yet it appears everyone around me are having babies – my sister included.

I love my sister, but she never wanted to be a mom and here she is a mom of almost 3 and I have nothing. I use to dream of being a mom, I use to play house – imagining that I was a house wife and my husband was working – and care for my dolls as though they were real. I took care of my parents friends son when I was 13, and dreamed of the day when I had one of my own – all the while my sister locked herself in her room and would stay far away from children. So why is she the one who gets to have babies, and I’m the one who has Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome? Life’s not fair I suppose…

Ugh, I guess I’ll end this here since I’m rambling..

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Broken walls 

I’m instantly drawn to people who are lost, who are struggling with something bigger then themselves. Their souls intertwine with mine and I am engulfed in their pain; I find myself obsessed with getting us out of this place, healing this person I’ve become mentally one with. I think that’s my problem, I physically feel the sadness and pain of others. The pain is not mine, yet I can’t help but be effected by it. This is how I felt when my dad first passed, I did not cry for me but for my mom because I knew her pain was overwhelming. I am so consumed with other people’s pain that I can’t address my own demons, my own pain.

I use to think the worst feeling in the world was being physically alone, but now I know the worst feeling is feeling alone in a building full of people. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that, while I feel others pain and can empathize, I don’t trust anyone enough to open up completely to. I keep my vulnerability locked behind steel walls with the keys pressed closely to my heart where no human will ever touch. My very outlook on the world, on human’s as a species is undoubtly grim. We are fueled by the notion that we are happy with what we have, until something better arrives; until we are bored, or trust was broken. We hide behind the screens of our phones, tablets and computer screens idolizing false reality of greener grass. We spill our unfiltered hearts and dreams to people, people that may cheat on you and tell you it’s your fault, that they never loved you or that you are crazy. How can I find the courage to trust a person when I am so aware of the impeding doom that may lay before me.

But how can I judge an entire world by a few people’s choices? How can I hold Joe Blow accountable for John Do’s mistakes, the wounds that aren’t from 12507306_1055527871186745_1375600450009688696_n.jpghis words and actions? How can I expect to find love and have children when I am so cynical and cut off?  I am not naive to believe that all men are the same, that they all only want one thing however I am wise enough to know a good majority would rather act their shoe size then their age. Mind you, I shouldn’t only throw shade on males, females are sneaky and manipulative and are just as immature as their counter partners. I know many females that walk away, that give up on people, that cheat and play games. I have encountered women that run from their families, abandon their children for the same reasons a male would. I know women who pride themselves on sleeping around, who are proud to have babies from different daddies, who live their lives a way I never knew a women would want to; But I have strong opinions on gender roles, and maybe that’s why it surprises me when women act the way a male would.

Yes, I’m a female who thinks a woman’s place is in a home raising children. That a man should make more money, should work and should provide for their families. I do not believe that a women that chooses to be a mother should be involved in a 40 hour work week while her child(ren) are being watched by a person that is only doing it for a pay cheque, or stuck behind a computer screen doing work while their children rot their brains in-front of tablet or TV. Two people that decide to have children should do everything in their power to give their children a well balanced life, and there’s no balance in a daycare or being raised by an electronic device. 

There is a point to my rambling I promise.

Like I said, I’m drawn to broken people; I am overcome with the need to speak to someone I believe is struggling no matter how long its been since I had a conversation or seen them. I constantly worry and check on their social media sites hoping to see a change. This happened not to long ago, a dream set me spiraling down to an unknown place filled with people I didn’t recognize and landmarks I didn’t know. I ended up in a apartment with people from my past, brothers of a family I knew in my younger years and as I slept my mind raced with situations and outcomes I did not understand. The youngest brother, a kind boy in his youth before the world crashed before him, was the main focus of this dream. I know, as I still speak to his sister and periodically him as well, that he as substance abuse issues and been in trouble with the law on more then one occasion. He was struggling in my dream, he was hiding from the law, he was lying to his family; his family that was in the other room emotional because of his actions. I have dreams that don’t make sense often and usually i forget them shortly after I wake up, however this dream  was different. The details were burned into my head and I was consumed with what it meant, I still am. I checked his social media for a week before finally just reaching out to him; the tormented feeling wouldn`t shake no matter what I did and I knew I had to do something.

He is currently in Detox.

His life had flipped upside down and he was days away from going into treatment when I reached out to him. He is the strong, thug sort of guy, yet every time we speak he breaks down his walls. He tells me things any other man wouldn’t, he explains his actions for things without hesitation and he shows his feelings. We sort of dated when we were 13 and his sister was one of my best friends, I was there when his dad passed, when his brother betrayed his trust and I guess I am comfortable. I am from a time when his life was a little simpler and he is from a time where my life was full. I guess we have a bond that I cant make sense of, an unwritten, unspoken binding that keeps us connected even through the years and miles apart. If a male, a broken human, and a man that made his living slanging drugs can break down his walls, can admit that he is wrong and can accept the help he needs to become the person his son deserves and in his words and so I can have a healthy relationship with someone If I wanna settle down”; If a person that has had nothing but bad situations thrown their way can look on the brighter side and I can’t? Why do I bury myself behind walls that are doing nothing but hurting me? Why am I allowing past mistakes, demons and fears scare me from living the life I always dreamed of?  It baffles me that still to this day I do not have a person I feel comfortable with, that I can tell the complete truth to, that I can show even the deepest and darkest corners of my  soul to, and yet I have become that person to so many people.

I hate my walls, the things I built to protect me have done nothing but isolate me, they have taken more then they have saved. I’ve lost so much because if and when I begin to let my walls open my mind freaks out and sends me into an anxious mess and I run. I need to learn to express myself, to allow my walls to crack and fall, to love myself, to allow others to love me; to live.

My third and final resolution for 2016 is to learn to be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

xoxo Donna.

 

 

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