Hello World

Pray it out. Overcome it. Stop being so pessimistic. It’s not that big a deal. There are people going through worse. Stop being so negative. Stop taking about it so much. Stop posting about it so much. Keep it offline.

Stop it.

I am a girl who’s been struggling. I’m a girl who’s ambition drives her and the overwhelming lack of motivation weighs her down.

Is it my fault? Is this who I am?

I’ve worked hard. I have struggles. I overcame them all until the age of 22 when a doctor told me I had depression.

Wow! Big shocker there! Because the suicidal thoughts I had when I was 12 years old didn’t give me a hint! Because when all the adults were too worried about letting all the negative things seep out to the outside, they weren’t paying attention to how badly it was affecting me.

It never got better.

I moved out, I went to school, I fought to go to and finish college. I did the same for my master’s degree. Then I discovered that I also had anxiety.

I try to take care of myself. It’s hard. It’s hard to find the motivation to do seemingly simple tasks. It’s hard to brush my teeth and take a shower. It’s hard to remember that I need to eat meals that are more substantial than Lunchables. It’s hard to clean up the clothes on the floor when my bed is way more comfortable and inviting.

Restless thoughts at night keep me up at the 2s and 3s and 4s in the morning. Going 24 or 36 hours on no sleep is not uncommon. Sleeping for 12+ hours is also not uncommon. When the grip of life seems too much to bear, I’m not even safe in my own bed.

The most dangerous place for me to be is in my own head. I can spend far too much time there, imagining a better life or a worse one. At the drop of a hat, one thought, one memory, one fear can change the entire narrative.

It’s like drowning above water. Or maybe I should say it’s like I’m hypersensitive to everything and then a harsh grip takes over my throat, my chest. The migraine sets in and I’m rendered useless.

Oh hello 5 a.m. anxiety attack. Apparently you’ve been expected.

I hate that I want to do better, I want to be better. I want to love myself. I want to embrace the strengths and flaws in myself. I want to feel confident. I want to let myself feel emotions that I’ve been too afraid to feel. I hate that I want all these things because in a moment, the script can be flipped. I’m so mean to myself. I don’t even know why. I don’t know how to stop it.

All this intense emotion is obviously too much to unload on just one person. But when it’s been a common loop for years, it’s hard to feel safe reaching out to people. They must be so tired. Tired of listening and trying to help but end up finding me in the same place with the same issues and the same outlook on myself. My poor friends. My poor family, too. The majority don’t understand that this doesn’t work like a cold. I can’t just take my medication and exercise a few hours a week and be miraculously “cured.” The ones that do try to get it tend to go on a “let’s send her some things that have smiles on them to make her happy” tirade from time to time. I can’t bring myself to tell them that it doesn’t really help out much. After all, I’m glad they even care at all.

I don’t have a safe person or a safe space to go to when the world is crumbling under my feet. I have no one to call that won’t judge me every time an anxiety attack strikes. I have no one to hug or reassure me that I’m still human as I doubt myself. I should be taking care of it myself. After all, that’s what adults do.

Right?

Being recently unemployed, therapy is unfortunately on hold and medication is running out. The pile of clothes keeps spreading across the floor and just looking at it makes me so exhausted. I have trouble waking up before noon and when I am awake, I’m looking for employment and trying to remind myself that I am not useless. I’m trying not to cry as bills pile up and rent falls behind yet another month.

But who wants to hear about that?

Because you can’t keep repeating that you’re not fine in a room that doesn’t want to hear it. That is so tired of trying to help in vain that it’s just easier to ignore it. Push it to the side until later. Privately. Keep it hidden. You can express it, just not by me. Not right now. Not now when everyone else is having a good time and no one can see that you don’t feel any shred of happiness that (in theory) should be there. What’s there to be depressed about? What’s there to be sad about?

Is it even okay to admit that? That when I have no reason at all to feel depressed, I still do? That I can’t seem to feel happy on my own? That I need a safe person to go to sometimes to hug or to spend time with until I calm down again or to talk to? That despite these things, I’m still trying?

I’m trying to stay away from the incredibly dark thoughts. I’m trying to remind myself that it won’t last forever. That it will pass. I have many people to thank for that. I also have this music group called BTS to thank especially.

I want the day to come where I know in my heart that it’s just me.

But until then, I’m walking with the twins Depression and Anxiety. Praying that they can get bored of me and let me go.

Until next time…

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