The return
I am happy, I was sad. I am sad, I was happy. It turns out, the two of those go together hand in hand. I believe you can’t reach true happiness until you have experienced that equal balance of sadness. The sadness lingers around, but it also serves as a reminder that the better days will soon find their way back. But how do we know if we’ll have our moment with happiness again? It feels as if it doesn’t stick around long enough. The darkness has its way of sneaking in to claim its place on the pedestal as the greatest contender. When my dark days make an appearance, my emotions become heightened, and I can feel each one to an overwhelming amount. It becomes too heavy. Sometimes I feel forgotten about, which I know sounds egotistic, but if everything looks okay from the outside then people are going to believe that you’re holding it altogether because you haven’t had a major breakdown. People get so caught up in their own lives that they forget to pay any attention to the ones that are barely surviving. I don’t know. Maybe I just crave a little attention from time to time, anything that makes me feel like I’m not a complete failure and that people can see the strength it takes to hold your life together when you’re hardly hanging on. I know you don’t need validation from others, you should be proud of yourself and the progress you’ve made regardless of who notices or not. Everything that I have now is what I dreamed of achieving years ago and of course that is a huge accomplishment, but my brain still denies me my true, unconditional happiness.
I admit that I can sometimes come across as a very unpleasant person. I could use some improvement towards my attitude, I think deep down I’m afraid of making connections with others because I fear abandonment. Opening your heart and allowing someone to see your past and the demons you face daily is a very vulnerable process. It takes a lot out of you to share these sensitive moments and if you accidentally let the wrong person in, then they could use this information against you in the future. When you’ve dealt with any form of abuse, and the trauma that comes with it, you are led to believe that every person out there is horrific. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to find another confidant that won’t hurt you in the long run, so you become protective over yourself and who you allow in your life, because it’s not worth risking more hurt and having to restart the entire process to reach certitude. That’s why I tend to make myself come across as standoffish just until I can see if my instincts make the right decision on whether I’ll be able to trust someone.
Lately, I’ve been constantly comparing myself to everyone I see on social media, and it becomes tiresome, but I can never stay away. This is my biggest issue with social media. All we do is compare and put ourselves down because we don’t have what everyone else has. Society has created such a horrid standard regarding how you’re supposed to look these days. I finally become content with myself and then the minute I start to scroll through Instagram, I start questioning whether my shape, size, hair length, and skin is acceptable in the world today. Years ago, I completely stopped wearing makeup and I will say that it was the best decision I’ve ever made. It has improved my self-image immensely because I feel like I’m not hiding behind that mask of uncertainty and insecurity anymore.
But I find that I compare myself to the different versions of myself the most. The motivational side of me comes along and leaves behind evidence of the life she could build for herself, just for the discouraged me to find remnants of what could’ve been. I have a difficult time finding the inspiration I need to work towards the life I so desperately want. I stay secluded in comfort because I don’t want to face disappointment that could possibly come from putting myself in an exposed position. I have a house, a job that pays the bills, and a hometown that has been like a security blanket, why would I want to sabotage that? What I don’t realize though is, it’s about growing to become the greatest version of me, not staying secluded merely of convenience. I find it’s only a matter of time until this motivational me loses its inspiration and succumbs to a life of stability. Let’s just hope she sticks around longer this time to create some more blog posts.
It’s been eight months of battling with my inner self. Writing things that will never sound sufficient and then erasing them, and giving up because I lost belief in myself and the future that I finally thought I could have. I’ve been trying to fill this void in my life with items and impulsive trips because I think it’ll distract me long enough to feel better again. But then, the trip is over, and I used up all the joy those items brought just to be reminded that everything ends, and I’m left with the emptiness that I tried to patch over with superficial objects. I loathe myself and the person I’ve allowed myself to become lately. I’ve given up on my dreams and goals because I lost confidence. I believe that I won’t be able to make a difference or become someone bigger than my depression. I secluded myself entirely from everyone in fear that they will see how quickly I’ve given up. I thought not writing would be better than writing with the same old disheartening tone. I must tell myself repeatedly that there are people who will listen without falling into the belief that what I say isn’t worthy of being heard. Because everyone knows talking about it whether it’s good or bad, is better than allowing it to cumulate over time…right?
I’m working on myself constantly every single day and it sucks because you can’t yell at people to acknowledge it. Either you have people that notice it, or you don’t. It sucks because I want to be selfish and scream out at people like “HEY!!! Look at me!! I’m struggling, please say something!!” Of course, having a mental health diagnosis, you are not capable of making your struggles known because for most of your life, you hid them since they didn’t seem suitable. It infuriates me the most when no one takes mental health seriously. It is a lifelong illness that restricts you from daily activities, it’s something you try to escape from, but it still finds its way back. You claw and you fight your way out of that cavernous pit of despair, hoping that it’ll be the last time. You try your best to find enjoyment in all that’s around you, only to realize that your mind isn’t competent enough to experience true emotions. Everything is bleak.
I hope this can serve as a reminder to check on the ones around you, especially if they come across as put together. Most of you probably assume that I have it all figured out, since that’s what my social media comes across as. Every single minute of every day, I am still at war with my depression and bipolar. Which means someone out there that’s posting another selfie with a smile plastered on their face could very well be an illusion to hide behind the truth of what they’re experiencing internally. Please be kind to each other and reach out to someone, it will make their day just to know someone was thinking about them. Don’t just be another like on someone’s post.
I had my first psychiatrist appointment the other day with a new doctor. I’ve seen a million different psychiatrists in my life, and have tried multiple different anti-depressants, but to this day I have yet been able to give them a try for longer than a month. Don’t get me wrong, medicine can be valuable. I’ve just been reluctant to commit to medicine because I don’t want to feel controlled by a pill. I’ve been controlled by substances my whole life so I don’t want antidepressants to become a new addiction that I can’t live without. I also fear that once I stick to a routine with medication, I won’t experience certain emotions that make me, me. My depression is a part of me. I don’t know who I am without it. I view medicine as a facade. A way to become a completely different person that slowly becomes someone unrecognizable. I’m nervous to get to know the medicated me, I don’t know what or who to expect. I fear losing the person I’ve known my whole life. Who knows, maybe I’ll learn to like the new and “semi-improved” me. It will be gratifying to have a break from my own mind for at least a little while.
