I haven’t posted on this blog for years...so hopefully that means no one actually cares or is paying attention to it cause I need to take a second to unload some stuff.
I’m choosing to post something here because I feel like I just can’t talk to anyone—not that I don’t have anyone who would listen, it’s more like everyone has their own struggles and I just can never bring myself to talk to anyone. Infact, talking about things always makes me feel worse so I’m hoping that writing about stuff will at least make me feel I’ve taken a load off, even a little.
I don’t know where to begin...I try very hard, and make a conscious effort to project an image of happiness. And, well, I am happy most of the time. But when something bothers me it sends me spiraling downward and I can never seem to get back up. Little things, silly things, will make me second guess myself or make me truly upset. I try not to ever post things that could hint that I’m upset for the reasons above but also because I suppose part of me thinks I can just “fake it til I make it” or something. I dunno...so much has changed and so much has happened so quickly I find myself absolutely miserable for various reasons I feel are so petty when it comes to trying to help myself but if my friend were in my position I would absolutely feel their concerns are valid. It’s weird how the tables are turned when we deal with ourselves.
Like, I hate myself. I hate the body I have, I hate the way I look in clothing, the way my calves and my hips seem so disproportionate when compared to my wise waist. I hate the way I try so hard to force myself to be social I just don’t know when to shut up or when to stop. I hate the way I can no longer focus on things—anything—even the things I love. I hate the way I need insane amounts of sleep. 12 hours just isn’t enough. 14, 16, even 18 hours. I hate that I just can’t function like I could. I have no energy, no motivation, no drive. I so desperately want to reach out to someone, to find someone who can support me and be my crutch like some sort of miracle helper to bring me up from the depths. But, I can’t. Everyone has their own problems and struggles. I need to work harder, work better, more efficient and over come mine. I know I can do it...an yet here I am struggling years later.
Even on medication it’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do. I want to keep moving forward—I want o finish my goals, enjoy my hobbies, and love myself again but I honestly don’t know what to do, but I am so willing to try anything.
I want to wrap myself in a blanket burrito and live in a dark room for days. I want to sleep for so long. I want to take a break.
But that doesn’t solve anything.
Here we are again. Back to me, not being enough—never having been enough—and utterly failing at being a basic functioning human.
I honestly don’t know...but I guess I feel a little relieved having put things into words. Having forced myself to identify and acknowledge what’s bothering me. I guess, if anything, this is a small step forward. And for that I can be thankful.
