I realize just how much time I spend criticizing myself in my head.
So much that I can’t even focus on what’s in front of me. Why are you like this? Why can’t you manage your weight like you used to? You’re disgusting. You’re a disappointment. Why did you wear this outfit today, you look horrible. You look fat. Sit up straight. Why are you slouching. It makes you look fatter. Stop thinking about shit that happened forever ago. It doesn’t matter anymore. But wait, it does matter. Concentrate on what they’re saying to you. Don’t tune them out. Pay attention. Ask a question. Show them you’re paying attention. Stop slouching. Did you remember to answer that email? Fuck. Answer that email. Why didn’t you take your meds today? Take them when you get home. Where is your motivation. Why are you so unhappy.
I live inside my mind.
I feel like I’ve missed out on so much in life. I thought meds were supposed to help me with that. I feel let down in a way.
But I press on. Willing myself to take them at the proper times each day. Hell, sometimes just willing myself to take them at all. Patterns just aren’t my thing apparently.
The internet is a scary place. I used to feel so free and happy about posting things or talking about certain things about myself to friends and vice versa. we were all just forming friendships and support; Building a family. But now I feel nervous sometimes to open back up like that. The feeling in the back of my head that you’re just being judged. It sucks to think you can’t please everyone. Like it’s my own shortcoming. I just want everyone to be good.
I just want to have fun again. I’m tired of things always being so serious. My journey was so much easier that way. I stayed on track more. Creating recipes excited me. I wasn’t as depressed. I had a purpose. Now I just feel like a nuisance.
So you say, alright. This is it. I’m gonna take a break for a little while. Go be ME. But seriously what the fuck does that even mean. Sure, I have way too many hobbies but my passion IS where I choose to put it most. But how does that define? I live with this overwhelming feeling that something is missing. But can never quite figure it out. But the internet gives me gratitude sometimes. Often gives me joy. So we all come back. It’s become a psychological drug.
Hi, if you’ve made it this far and you’re new here? Hello, I live with depression, high anxiety and I’m bipolar. PCOS and gluten intolerant. We all have our shit I guess.
Are you uncomfortable now?
It’s ok, I am too.
I think I change my hair so much because I’m waiting for that right color that makes me feel complete. Confident even. The adventure is fun though. The never ending search for contentment.
How do you get that fire back. How do you stop feeling like a failure. How do I get myself to stop getting up and eating cereal in the middle of the night. I feel like a brick wall that’s been smashed into by a speeding car. Oh wait… bad analogy. But still time consuming to reconstruct. I need to reconstruct.
I need to reconstruct.