It’s taken quite a long time for it to set into my brain that I did not ask for any of this, nor do I deserve the pain I feel.
I am not a burden.
I am not worthless.
I am not ashamed.
I am not a victim of trying times, but a survivor of them. I fight relentlessly every single day of my wretched life even if I don’t particularly want to do that anymore.
I am strong.
I am resilient.
I am human.
The pain may be everlasting, but I can get through it. I always have, and I always will.
At this point in my life, I would rather feel nothing than to deal with the reality of it all.
Manic as hell means no feelings for me, or if I do happen to scrape up the ability to feel something, it is probably nonsense that passes my train of thought within seconds, so it doesn’t really bother me – to be completely honest.
When I’m not manic, it seems I am in a constant state of depression. Nothing and no one can fix the feelings and thoughts that run rampant through me. And it fucking hurts, you know?
It hurts to know that no matter how hard you try, you can’t feel what happiness really is, you can’t change what’s happened and you can’t fix yourself in the long term at all.
Every little hiccup in life snowballs into something fierce and terrifying, that I simply cannot handle, nor cope with.
So I guess I’d rather stay this way.
They’ve got me surrounded.
They’ve taken over.
I can’t escape.
I can’t run and I certainly can’t hide.
Some of them scream and shout at me.
Some of them have a gun to my head.
They’re nasty beasts.
They’re the voices in my head.
Today marks three years of WordPress, for me.
This has been such a fantastic outlet, as well as a helpful tool in my recovery.
To write, soothes the soul, it cleanses and it nourishes the mind.
I am thankful for everyone who has ever left me a comment, liked a post, followed me, and of course read along with my journey.
Although I have only been with WordPress for three years, my writing began long ago. Ten years, to be precise, but with WordPress I truly feel as though I can reach out to others who have similar struggles, as well as relate to the stories of them.
And I don’t feel right,
And I want to give up the fight,
And I want to run away,
And it seems I’ve led myself astray,
When you fight with demons, you must ensure that you take them head on.
You cannot tiptoe around demons, for they are relentless, unmerciful thoughts that rattle your entire being, if you let them.
You cannot run, because they will follow, because they’re your demons.
So fight with everything you have against the demons in your head, try not to let them come out on top. And if they do, take it as a learning curve.
The battle may leave you battered and bruised, but if you do not try, you will not succeed.
So imagine you’re swimming one day, everything is fine and you feel good. But then a wave hits you and sends you tumbling under water. Suddenly, it hurts to breathe, and the harder you try, the more difficult it becomes – much like any other simple task. You try to swim upward, you kick and you scream for help but no one can hear you, because you’re under water, and it feels like you’re simply not strong enough save yourself from the crashing waves of thoughts and depressive ideations. You attempt to splutter out the truth of how you feel while you drown, but to no avail. It’s as though no one can hear you.
This is what it feels like when you’re really suffering from Depression and Anxiety disorders. Like you cannot breathe, you cannot speak, there is no one to help you and there is certainly no damn escape, no matter how hard you try.
But know this; the ones who keep swimming despite the very real fear of drowning in mental illness, do come out on top, for they learn to swim time and time again.