I don’t know how long exactly. All I know is that it’s a new year and I’m not exactly the same person I was. Or so I like to tell myself. I think I changed. But I’m not really sure. I mean, I didn’t really know myself a whole lot before so… It’s hard to measure change I learned a lot about myself… I think…
Depression has been easier to deal with. That much I do know. I haven’t had suicidal thoughts in a couple months. I haven’t been to Therapy or CBT in a couple months either. It’s too cold… I don’t like being cold. But I found a schedule I like.
I wake up at around 8-9am and have coffee or tea downstairs and start learning how to freelance. I started learning Web Dev and I really
like love it. Which is why I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been feeling the creative writing energy lately. Or any creative juices for that matter. I guess I needed a creative break.
But I miss writing. I miss expressing myself with words. And I miss connecting with people with my poetry. So I’m going to try and pick it back up. Work The Fog and finally publish it before November.
But right now it’s 12:42am and I’m exhausted. Learning how to code takes a lot of energy out of you…
While everyone else was getting ready for church or work yesterday I slept until noon and woke to an empty house. I felt relieved but also kind of alone. I just can’t wait for the days where I wake up with my boyfriend next to me.
I made some tea and tried to focus on learning Scrivener again but the tutorial in the program wasn’t working out for me. I had to look online for some video tutorials. I found a couple that I really like on Skillshare.
I then tried to focus on actually building my poetry book in Scrivener. I kept jumping around from different elements that go into an ebook and ended up over whelmed again.
So now I’m going to stop; Make a list of elements that go into a published book, do those elements one by one until it’s complete. Once my manuscript is completed all I have to work on is marketing. I have a mini panic attack just thinking of all the people I have to talk to in this phase.
I often find myself wondering why I started writing in the first place. I use to say that I write because I have a story to tell. But now I say that I write to be understood. But I don’t write just for me or just about me. I’m writing for everyone else that feels misunderstood, those who feel lonely but are not alone, and those who are suffering in silence. I’m writing for all of us who are depressed but don’t know how to put it in words or explain to our friends and family.
That’s the only thing that keeps me writing. The only thing that keeps me learning how to self-publish.
I have been around my family for three whole days. I finally some alone time so I can write.
My mom told me Friday night that we were going to Virginia in the morning to help my grandmother and my two aunts to pack up and move to their new apartment. I was reluctant at first to go but I thought the exercise and free food would do me some justice. I did not, however, foresee that the fog would hit me so hard even after all that moving around and eating I’ve been doing. It probably hit so hard because I didn’t get the right amount of sleep. I should be doing yoga because my body feels so tense since I’m sleeping on the couch.
The only alone time I got what when I went to the bathroom. So I just had to suck it up and keep pretending. I definitely didn’t want to tell them about my depression because they’ll just shove bible quotes down my throat and I didn’t feel like hearing that. I hope one day I’ll be able to tell them. I hope I find the courage to do so before I publish a book about what I’m going through.
I kind of got mad at my boyfriend because the one time I tell him I really need him asap he doesn’t text back until five hours later because he’s hanging out with a friend. I was having suicidal thoughts and I was scared of being alone. I’ve never had them so intense before so I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t tell him about the thoughts though. I just told him I was ready to “give up on life.”
But now I’m confused. Am I asking too much from him? Am I being too needy? Am I being selfish? I don’t know but he apologized like a thousand times and promised to be there for me more. But I still don’t know if I should just try to manage without him because I know its unrealistic to expect him to be there 24/7. But he wants to try. So I’ll let him try. Maybe he should come to therapy with me next time so he can learn how to help me manage.
My mom suggested that she and dad come to one of my therapy sessions. While I do think it a good idea the very thought of being interrogated by them in such a small room terrifies me. I don’t know if I can handle it yet. But I know its important that I try talking to them so they can understand how I feel.
The past few days have been so stressful. But at least I’m still alive. Since I survived this I can get through another few days of family gatherings.
I still don’t feel like doing anything or going anywhere. But my dad is in his cleaning happy mood early in the morning so I have to clean the bathroom. I guess since I’ll be in a separate room I can have some peace and quiet. If only his music wasn’t so loud. I would ask him to turn it down but then I’ll have to talk and I don’t feel like doing that.
I’ve been waking up the past few days with a dry throat. Like I’m not drinking enough water. But I know I am. I don’t drink a gallon but I’ll drink multiple glasses a day. I don’t know how many exactly. I should start keeping count.
I didn’t get much sleep last night. I actually stayed up until 5 am and it’s almost 8 now. Been up since my dad turned his music on. At least he’s not blasting rock or metal. That would have pissed me off. Not like I don’t like rock or metal I do. It would just irritate me if he was blasting it while I’m sleeping. But I feel like I can’t get mad at him. This is his home. I’m not paying for it. He can do whatever he wants and I can always leave.
I really want to leave. And never come back. If I had the money I would build myself a small house on a trailer and go everywhere. Somewhere comfortable and quiet where I can be free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted in life. I was never the type to fuss over money and things because I already knew that they didn’t give me any long term satisfaction. But living in nature away from all this fake stuff sure would.
But of course I would get lonely and I can’t even think about going anywhere without my boyfriend. Who I’m jealous of by the way. Not like jealous where I can’t stand being around him though. I’m just jealous he has the life I always dreamed of.
He lived in a house all his life. He’s a talented musician. He grew up fostering his love for cars and got a job doing what he enjoys. He didn’t have to go to college so he’s not in debt. He has friends he can call and hang with anytime he wants. He doesn’t have anxiety or depression. Oh and he gets paid time off. He’s not perfect I know but his life sure is better than mine. I wouldn’t trade places with him tho. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Not even someone I truly hated.
I’m tired of sleeping on this hard futon. I’m so stiff when I get up. There’s no comfortable way to lie on this thing. My back, shoulders, hips, and jaw hurt and feel stiff if the morning and all day. I suppose that means I have to start doing yoga again. I keep looking at my yoga mat and I want to do yoga again. I just don’t have the energy. And I know yoga will give me a boost in energy. It’s just really hard to start again. A body at rest wants to stay at rest.
My dads out doing whatever. I don’t know how much time I have to myself but I sure do wish it could stay this quiet all day. I think I rambled enough. I going to eat and try to do something productive today.
I wanted to write something earlier but I had no Idea what I wanted to write. I tried to think up some poetry but I have no idea how I feel. I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t focus on anything today. So I just watched random videos. Scrolled through Tumblr. Watched some anime and played video games. I feel like a failure because I didn’t do anything productive.
I guess it’s this lazy Sunday weather. Too hot to think about doing anything. Too beautiful do spend it alone in the house. But also no money to go anywhere with friends. I’m tired of being broke and lonely. I wish I lived with my boyfriend but I don’t want him to have to pay for everything alone.
I’ve tried to get a job but that’s not working out for me. I’m trying to write and publish a book of poetry but depression and anxiety keep holding me back. Keeping me from writing because it’s painful. Keeping me from learning because it’s overwhelming. Keeping me from trying because it’s too much to think about on my own.
Tomorrow will be a new day. A fresh start. Tomorrow I will be more motivated to write and learn. Tomorrow I will do something other than sulk in the house. Tomorrow I will enjoy the beautiful weather.
Tomorrow I Will!
*Trigger Warning: Rape*
I was sexually abused for years when I was a child by my cousin. I didn’t stop it. I wanted to stop it. I was confused. I felt numb when he touched me. It was all a blur and it feels like a dream. Then I was molested by a guy from high school. I was scared to call him a friend but I did. He kept grabbing me and making me touch him. I just wanted him to stop. Then I was raped in my sleep by someone I thought I could trust. After I told him I was raped and molested. I guess he thought he could have his fun too.
I write about the things that happened to me. But I don’t talk about them. I should probably talk about them. I desperately want to talk about it but I can’t bring myself to say the words. I don’t even know why I want to say it out loud.
One day I will say these words out loud. One day it won’t feel like a nightmare. One day it won’t pop into my head when I don’t want it to. Right? Or will it continue to haunt me forever? Will I ever rid myself of these memories? Why should I even say it out loud? Do I really have to? Can’t I just keep it buried in the back of my mind forever? Can’t I just pretend to be okay? Can’t I just forget it ever happened like him?
Did he even forget? Does he even feel sorry? Would deny it now? I’m scared to find out. What if it was just a nightmare. What if it never actually happened. What if I lied? What if I asked for it?
Sometimes the world is a fucked up place. And sometimes there ain’t shit we can do about it. We are forced to play the cards were dealt. And we have to struggle. But you know what? The world is a constantly evolving place. Ideas change. Tradition’s change. People change too.
There are people out there that help others fight their demons. Some are even fighting their own. And that’s the most beautiful thing about this world and humanity. Stay strong and keep your head above the fog for as long as you can. And always try to love yourself first. Remember that there is someone out there that will listen, be your shoulder to cry on, and love you.
“Gotta have opposites, light and dark and dark and light, in painting. It’s like in life. Gotta have a little sadness once in awhile so you know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.” – Bob Ross
I hate feeling sleepy like I haven’t been sleeping right. I hate waking up and the only thing I look forward to is going back to sleep. Like I woke up into a nightmare and I can only escape in my dreams. Which I can’t even remember sometimes.
My eyes have been heavy all day. Even after my tea. Which usually leaves me feeling better. I should have made myself another cup but I don’t want to drink too much in one day. I don’t have money to get more.
I fucking hate being poor. I hate living off spare change and the generosity of others. I mean, yeah I’m grateful for all the help I’m getting but I don’t like being so dependent on people. I hate feeling like I will have to owe them one day. I hate feeling uncertain.
And I hate when people say well at least you have this and that. Yea I’m grateful for all that but I am not where I want to be in life.
I just had to get this out of my system…
So now he thinks I self-diagnosed myself. Great. I can’t believe he doesn’t remember me going to therapy. I’m sure I told him. Or maybe he thought I went just to talk about nothing. I don’t know. Or maybe I thought I told him but I really didn’t. I do that sometimes. I say things to people in my head thinking that I said it out loud.
So I wrote down how it feels for me. I will either read it to him when I feel the time is right, maybe after a couple therapy sessions. Or maybe I’ll just let him read it.
What Depression Feels Like To Me
It’s like a fog or an overcast on a beautiful day. All I want to do is lift that fog so I can enjoy it. Sometimes it lifts and I can but other times it just gets heavier and or thicker. On those days I will either keep trying to lift it but that gets exhausting. Eventually, I will get tired and just pretend that it’s not there. But even that gets exhausting. I’m not always strong enough to lift the fog by myself. I wish I have someone there to lift it for me. And if there isn’t anyone there the fog weighs me down and I end up feeling numb.
Sometimes depression feels like an overcast. Completely out of my control. Something that will come and go. I wait patiently. Numb and empty. Lethargic and apathetic. I just want to go back to sleep and hope when I wake it’ll be over. When I do sleep all day I’ll feel worse. Irritated and angry with myself for procrastinating on everything. Then I get stressed out because of the overwhelming things that I have to do. And I actually want to panic because I just want to feel something that would kick myself into high gear. But half the time nothing happens. I try to distract myself by doing something that might give me joy. Sometimes it does and other times it doesn’t. It really depends on the amount of support I get.
That’s all I have for now. I don’t want this post to get too long and I have some chores I need to do. Also, I forgot to eat. And I’m starving. I’ll continue this later today. Or tomorrow.