Ramble 

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. 

Let’s Get Uncomfortable

I’d like to take a few moments to talk about something that’s really serious.  It’s a topic that pretty much everyone avoids.  I don’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable with this, or make anyone worry, or worry about me.  I’m just dealing with a lot right now and really need to get some stuff out, and since I can’t really talk about this with anyone, what better way than to just talk to my laptop about it haha.. So the topic I would like to talk about is suicide.

If you have been following me for a while you know that I have depression and have recently been diagnosed with bipolar depression. Back in June I was offline for about 4 days.  I got a lot of messages asking where I was and if I was ok, etc.  To some I just told them I was busy.  To a few I actually told them the truth.  I had been in the hospital.  I spent two days in the psych ward being evaluated for suicidal thoughts/actions.  Which has lead to me actually being able to get the help that I need.  So all in all, it actually worked out for the best, even though it was probably the worst two days of my entire life.  I’ve been meeting with a social worker and had to go through all kinds of screening bullshit to see if I would be accepted into this mental health facility program.  Thankfully, I was accepted.  To be honest there were days when I was pretty scared and certain that I would not be accepted and I was terrified about what would happen to me after that. But, thank goodness I was and my first psych appt is next week.

The reason I am even wanting to talk about any of this is because if you are someone that deals with this, you know all too well that no one around you understands.  You may not feel the urge to end your life every single day, but it is always in the back of your mind. 24/7.  So when you have bad days or weeks, those feelings are escalated.  The thing that bothers me the most is when someone hurts you and then you express that they have hurt you, and they respond with, “You’re crazy, its just your depression making you this way, I haven’t done anything wrong”…… Ok, the first wrong thing they did was being a complete asshole by even saying that and trying to justify their actions by blaming your illness.  That breaks my heart every single time and just makes it even harder to want to make yourself relevant in someones life. There’s no point right?  Work has been a huge stress for me right now because I had been promised that I would be able to work half days on Wednesday’s so that I could have a mental break in the middle of the week and also be able to schedule all of my dr/psych appts on those days.  It was a struggle to get those days off and felt like my needs were not important.  I have become so accustomed to this in my life that it is sickening. Mental illness is such a huge problem in this world but no one gives two shits about it.  We don’t matter.  We are defective and don’t deserve compassion and understanding.  This is how I feel and am treated almost every single day of my life. So you have to ask yourself, constantly, “Why am I even alive anymore?” .. Why do you even bother with anything when all you are is a waste of space and a burden to everyone.  Of course there are the people that say they care about you and “you’re so special and everyone loves you”… That shit drives me nuts. It really does. I know certain people care about me, as I care for certain people. But those people also don’t have to live inside this mind and body and deal with how others treat me. It angers me when someone says that suicide is selfish. No, its really not. It’s selfish of the ones around us who want us to stay around knowing that we are suffering and TO US that is the only way out. I know that’s a harsh thing to say, but its true.

Laying all of this out there isn’t an easy thing to do. I spend 98% of my time online only spreading positive vibes on all my platforms, because no one needs to be subjected to my struggles. But this one I just really needed to get out because I  know there is someone out there who feels exactly the same way and they need to know that they aren’t alone. It’s hard living a life that no one around you understands.  It’s like being in another country and not being able to communicate with anyone.  Hell, half the time I don’t even understand myself, so I can only imagine how hard it is for others.  But that doesn’t mean that we are not important and should just be shoved aside.  I could sit here for hours telling you all of my triggers or bad things that have happened to me as a result of my illness, but the point is, I just really wish this world would change. I wish people would change. I swear, one of these days I am going to fix this system and the stigmas around mental illness. We all deserve that much.