tranquil-depression

[tranquil-depression]

When the Pillar Cracks...

Why did I listen to you? You're always in the back of my mind, chattering away. Spewing your every back-handed word into my thoughts. Spinning harsh criticism as goals for me to strive for. You wanted me to be strong, intelligent, resilient, independent; but by what means? To what ends?

Forged by cynicism, unobtainable goals, guilt, and criticism, you molded me into a strong and resilient pillar, indeed. Curated my mind to be sharp, and fanned a flame of a never-ending fight for survival at all costs. But to what ends?

Scolding me for showing any weakness. Crying forbidden. Marketed as a waste of precious time and energy. Time and energy that could be better used to solve the problem that grieves me. Incessant beratement of my hopes and dreams because they didn't fit the narrative you wanted for me. And in the end... it worked.

I am what you wanted me to be. A strong pillar whose emotions never get in the way of solving any problem. This is what I am. This is the purpose I now serve and will until my dying breath. What's worse is everyone knows. When problems become too overwhelming they turn to me to solve them. Quickly, efficiently. But they don't realize how their problems chip away at me.

And how could they? I am forbidden to show weakness; forbidden to cry. Forbidden from being anything as burdensome as a human. Forbidden to heal the years of wear and decay and all because you whisper endlessly in my mind.

I've tried for long to heal. But I fear the seeds you've planted have grown far too well. I yearn to cry but I can't. As soon as my emotions swell and become too much, as soon as that sting of tears welling up hits my eyes, by body involuntarily ceases and like a raging torrent your words boom through my mind so cacophonic my own voice makes little difference.

I never should have listened to you. I wish I didn't have to listen to you.

[tranquil-depression]

What Makes Life Worth Living...

I met someone on Saturday. Someone open, honest, calm. I find him so charming and sweet. I want to kiss and hold him, shower him in affection, pour my attention and emotions into him until his cup overflows... and I hate it.

There's butterflies in my stomach. I'm nauseated, anxious, scared, excited, frustrated... I feel an absolute mess. How can someone I've just met hold such sway over my emotions? I've worked so hard to have control over my emotions. And yet here I sit... a mess over some man.

Why am I like this? There are far more nobel persuits I could channel my thoughts, emotions, and time into. And yet, I'm swayed by romance, the possibility of love. Swayed by the things that make life worth living.

[tranquil-depression]

Hopeless...

I think about you far more than I'd like to admit. I know I shouldn't. I knew from the way you spoke, how you held me against your chest, the look in your eyes, that I could only ever be a maybe. A temporary fix to your loneliness but never the one. And yet, I can't get you out of my head.

I often sit awake in bed wondering, hoping, if I will dream of you. Do you ever dream of me, too? I dream of seeing your smile as a laugh sings from your lips; your head tossing back ever so before your eyes meet my gaze. And in that moment, I know it is me who has brought you that joy. I dream of holding you close; wrapping ourselves tightly together and melting into each other's warm embrace. I dream of dancing, and playing; singing, and laughter, and so many wonderful things I know will never come to be.

And though I know that my dreams are nothing but fantasy, I can't help but cling to them so desperately wanting them to come true. Because from the moment we met, I knew I loved you. I want so desperately to tell you, but I know you will never hear these words part my lips.

I've given myself 1000 reasons why I shouldn't. Why I should let go and move on. Why it could never work. Why loving you is a mistake. Reminding myself time and time again that there is no hope. But how do you convince a hopeless romantic of that?

[tranquil-depression]

Rising Tides...

Life is wrought with so many emotions that rise and receed like the tides. Feelings such as happiness, joy, and contentment mirror the calm of the sea while others, anger, pain, and sorrow reflect the ever-present storms crested on the horizon.

For so long, I treaded water trapped in those turbulent storms; the swelling waves battering me, threatening to push me down into the depths of the void to drown. It took so much to keep my head just above the surface, I thought I could never muster the energy to escape my fate. I had finally given up. But as I sank into that vast void, I was greeted by the calmness of the sea and found it easier to swim to escape the storm.

Everything I had left to give was channeled into my strokes. Though they began so clumbsy and nearly ineffective, as I pushed on, I found myself getting better; refining my techniques until it seemed almost effortless: as if gliding through the water.

As I emerged on the sands of the beach, I rested to reflect on all I had gone through. As I sat at the cusp of the shoreline, I could feel the tides rise and fall beneath me. And in that moment, as the tides began to swell, I realized I could never truly escape. But even as they englufed me once again, threatening to pull me back into that vast ocean, I sat firm and calm. I let the tides wash over me and waited for them to receed once again.

Even now, as the tides flood in over my head, I reserve my strength, my composure, and my breath. For if I speak while the waters float so high above me, I know I will surely drown.

[tranquil-depression]

Wants and Needs...

What I want out of our relationship is for you to be thoughtful. Not just when I am upset but always. You are so selfish, childish, and aloof; and I am tired of having to ask you to be an adult. What I want is for you to take our relationship seriously and to step up to the plate and take action without being prompted. If you see something needs done, or cleaned, or fixed; just do it. Asking me to help, or put my two cents in, or waiting until I say something is not being an adult. I am not your mother. I am supposed to be your partner. And quite frankly, I feel there is so much more you could do for us given you have much more free time than me.

I work five days a week, tidy up and do chores seven days a week, I cook so that we have prepared food to eat, I pay for us to eat (whether it's groceries or going out), I give up sleep constantly to accommodate your wants and needs, I scrimp and pinch and suffer headache after headache to scrounge up a safety net of savings for us and what do you do? You do nothing until I have either asked you several times over or forced you to do something. And even then, if I don't micromanage everything you do and keep you accountable every god damn day, you stop because it interferes with your own self interests. You have no other thought than your own self gratification, and that will bring doom upon our relationship.

What I need from you is respect. I set clear boundaries early on in our relationship: don't lie to me, don't cheat on me, and don't fuck me over financially. And I will admit, I am partial to blame for this because I should have left you after you violated the first boundary. You have proven to me time after time that you have no respect for me. When you did shrooms after I told you how I felt about it, it should have been the end of us; and sometimes I wish it had been so I wouldn't currently be hurting because of the stupid shit you do. You have lied to me, cheated, and fucked with my finances; you have broken all three of the boundaries I asked you not to and why? Because you look out for only yourself. It's all about your own self gratification and you could give fuck all about anyone else. I don't care what you have to say at this point. Your actions speak louder than your words.

After trying so hard to make us work, and pouring so much time, effort, and thought into our relationship, I have come to realize that you are not a necessity in my life but an expensive luxury that provides neither benefits nor enrichment to my life. I am done trying. It's your turn now.

[tranquil-depression]

I am Utterly Alone...

I have noone. I try and try to please everyone just so that I may convince them to spend some time with me to fill this void of loneliness and isolation the wells deep within me but it never works. Am I too kind? Do I come off as desperate? Am I just weak? I just wish I had someone who wanted to hangout and spend time doing things together. I honestly don't care what it is; I just want to enjoy the company and experience.

But how does one make friends? How does one convince another person to commit to spending time, enjoying things and experiences together? God... I can't even convince my significant other to commit to spending time with me. Am I that much of a bore? I am utterly hopeless.

[tranquil-depression]

I'm Done...

I'm over it. I can't take this anymore. I can't take his self-centered, emotionally-autistic bull shit. I have asked, begged, and pleaded for him to not treat me like a dumbass or to talk down to me but he just doesn't seem to understand that there is a such thing as tone of voice or wording of phrases. His attention-span and fuse are just as short as he is and, in retrospect, I am certain he lashes out because he lacks the vocabulary to express himself (which wouldn't be so bad if he would stop making excuses and put in the time and effort to improve said vocabulary.)

All I did was ask for clarification on why he could not pick up the part for his truck today and fix it. And instead of explaining why, this piece of shit says "... you don't understand so I'm not going to explain it." And then this mother fucker has the balls to try and pretend like everything is okay and he didn't just insult me (infront of my dad no less.) I'm so over this bullshit. I will not stand to be insulted by a voluntarily ignorant, single-minded addict.

[tranquil-depression]

More the Same...

I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know why I do this. Maybe I’m just a masochist. I don’t know why I expect my significant other to care about me, or at the very least think of me. He’s just like the rest... the same type in a different shell. He is never impressed with anything I accomplish. He is never satisfied with anything I make or do. He never listens or pays attention. He treats me like I’m his backup entertainment whenever his other plans fall through. He gets upset when I don’t want to have sex with him but he doesn’t understand when I tell him that I need to be emotionally comfortable before I can even get in the mood. That statement might as well be in Martian.

All I ask is for him to think of me, and not just sexually. When he stops to get coffee or a milkshake or something, at least bring me one. Or when he finally have free time, ask me first to hang out, especially if I haven’t seen him in over a week. If he asks me to come see him, at least spend time with me. If I plan a special outing for us, at least be present and not glued to your phone talking to your friends, or don’t be so high that I can’t hold a conversation with you because the only part of your brain still working is the lizard part. I just wish he was considerate. 

And I’m tired of always having to be the one to pay for our dates. I shouldn’t have to spend $100.00+ a day just to hang out with him but that’s the only thing that seems to peak his interest. I should have never dated a rich kid. I just can’t keep up. Between his picky palate, inability to not impulse-buy, an expensive and ever-growing need for weed, and need to purchase every useless thing that catches his eye I just can’t compete. All he wants is material shit. To him I might as well be an overly-emotional and needy flesh light.

Why do I do this to myself?

[tranquil-depression]

I’m Done...

Been on the back burner so long I’m finally done. I get it you know. You go though enough shit and you just don’t care anymore. I get it. If you don’t want to deal with me then don’t lead me on. You used to be there for me. If I needed someone to talk to you were there. Not anymore. You told me that you would always be there but not anymore. I get it. You lost a child and so you push the rest of us away so you don’t have to deal with us. At least admit it. Don’t lie to my fucking face and tell me I should talk about my concerns and feelings. Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re there for me. 

Treasure has consumed you entirely and you no longer want to be a mom. The rest of us don’t mean a damn thing to you anymore. That’s why you’ve given up on Timothy and his sickness. That’s why you’ve given up on Char and her problems. That’s why you’ve pushed the burden of parenting Thomas the rest of his life unto me. That’s why you’ve stopped being my confidant. You just don’t care anymore. Well you know what? I’m done too mom. Do what you want... I know the rest of your spawn mean nothing to you anyway.

[tranquil-depression]

When a Piece is Gone...

It has been 16 days since the death of my baby boy. That last image of him lying there in the grass will forever be burned into my memory. I can't shake him. Everywhere I look I see and hear him. Not a night has gone by without him running through my dreams.

Noone seems to notice nor care that he is gone. I feel so alone. Everyone else is so wrapped up in their own shit that I have noone to turn to. Not even Charles seems to care. All he does is complain that I'm not affectionate enough, or I haven't wanted to fuck.

I just want my son back. I miss him with all my heart and soul. I miss feeling loved and needed and wanted. I miss the squeaks and headbutts and snuggles. I miss my son.

[tranquil-depression]

Alter Ego

As a kid I had this alter ego; the person I always wanted to be and it's name was Lv Valo. Valo was cool, calm, and collected; never let anything get to her. She was talented and inspiring. Knew exactly what she wanted and let nothing stop her from achieving her goals. If she got pushed down she got back up and kept fighting. If she hit a wall she would find another way or just break the wall entirely. She was sweet, and caring. Helped any and all who had only to ask. She wanted to make her mark on this world, and make it as inspiring and positive as could be.

I was always envious of Valo... I wanted to be better than her so I did all I could to make myself better than her. I volunteered, I helped friend and enemy alike. I encouraged others to be all they could be and more. I pushed to better myself physically, mentally, spiritually.... But no matter how hard I worked, Valo was always better.

And I gave up. I told myself I will NEVER be Lv Valo.... And I stopped caring. I consumed myself with self deprecation and kept telling myself I would never be Valo.

But as I reflect all these years later, I have realized that I WAS Lv Valo. I WAS the person I always wanted to be. I was strong, I was talented, I was the kind of person I had always dreamed of being. And I want desperately to be Valo again.... I just don't know where to begin anymore.

[tranquil-depression]

Slipping Memory...

I forget how the quote goes, but I will do my best. It's something to the tune of:

'Beneath this mask there is a face. But I am no more that face than I am the mask, nor the flesh nor bone beneath....'

I feel this speaks an infinite truth. I am the consciousness, the idea of 'Me.' My body, this vessel, is nothing more than a symbol. Symbols are created and destroyed. They stand for ideas but can be changed or come to stand for something else entirely. But the idea, it stands true. You cannot kill an idea, only forget.

And I fear I have forgotten.

[tranquil-depression]

When you're right...

In 2016 I was enrolled to UNT studying Art Education with a minor in Psychology. My final paper for my Psychology class was to do a clinical diagnosis of someone we knew well enough and to provide evidence of our findings; behaviors, clinical backgrounds, pre-dispositions... etc. I chose to do my final on my older sister, Treasure.

By the end of the paper I came to the conclusion of 2-3 possible diagnoses: clinical depression, bi-polar disorder, and/or paranoid schizophrenia. Given our family history, and her behavior over the past 15 years, I felt that all of these were valid options and couldn't narrow it down any further without clinical tests to confirm. Not even 10 minutes after submitting my paper, my mom calls me to say that Treasure shot herself. I ended up getting a 98% on my paper....

Today, my mom told me about what she had found out while visiting my sister, Treasure's, two kids and widowed husband. The 6 months leading up to her suicide she had been paranoid that someone was going to harm her and her children. She would walk around her home wielding a knife, swearing that someone was stalking the house to get her. She openly carried a gun in the home in front of her children; and when her kids asked, she would say there are intruders in and/or around the home trying to harm them.

My mom also got to see the toxicology report while she was there. She had meth, alcohol, and antipsychotics in her system. Her medical records showed that she never saught treatment nor recieved medication for any mental health issues.

All this just solidifies my previous diagnosis and I don't know how to cope. I knew her well enough to provide sound proof of her issues and instead of helping her, I wrote a paper. I wrote a god damn, meaningless, paper. I just don't know what to think anymore. I know we had tried to help her in the past... I know that she always relapsed and refused to let us help but... I just feel like there was so much more I could have done. But instead I gave up on helping her. Rejection after rejection of my offers finally got to me and I deemed it a lost cause. I figured she would ask once she finally was ready. I'm such an idiot.

[tranquil-depression]

I did it. I finally saw a New Year's Resolution through to fruition. It has been a long and trying year and I wasn't sure I'd hold fast, but here I am with my 3 little tick marks.

After an emotional uprooting I think I am finally finding my ground. I moved out here for mental help. After a brief stent in the hospital, and many prescriptions that made me gain weight uncontrollably, I am finally down to my ideal weight and still depressed but I have learned to manage it much better. The boost in self image has helped greatly, though I am still working on that as well. Always improving!

The fact that I have a secure job is a massive boost as well! Took me a year to find someone to give me a chance and look at me now! Been here almost a year and the future looks bright! (Fingers crossed that I get the schedule I was hoping for next month!)

I think my biggest accomplishment, however, is the amount I have saved this year. I left a lot of stuff behind in Texas during my uprooting and I have been scrimping and saving all year to afford a trip back to get all my things out of storage. But I did it with money to spare! I guess I could consider it my 1st vacation I have planned and paid for. Yay!!!

I can't wait to see what next year has in store!

[tranquil-depression]

Indecisions...

It's been a hell of a year... I've improved so much this year. I've met my new year resolutions for the 1st time, I've been working on my depression, meditating, working out, I've even been pulling in the reigns on my finances and am FINALLY close to being debt free. Yet... I feel as though I am getting no where in life and I feel school is the answer.

However, I can't afford to pay for the classes, and I with the pleasure of being debt free on the cusp of my grasp I just don't know if I can take that leap. I know I need to... It's the only option I have to finally be financially free and independent.

I just... I feel so trapped. I'm not getting any younger. I'm tired of being a dependant but I mean... Is this all my life is meant to be? A dependant or forever in debt? Have I no other option? I don't know what to do... I need guidance.

[tranquil-depression]

Just don’t say anything...

He does things I wish he wouldn’t but I’m the one getting in trouble. Just this morning he told me that he would have to leave and couldn’t take a shower with me. I said ok then went to get my laundry from the dryer. He took it as I’m upset and mad at him, which I wasn’t. He then began to get upset and take it out on me. To which I told him

“Oh my god, stop assuming shit. I have told you what happens when you assume shit. I’m not mad, I’m not upset. I just fucking woke up and asked you a question.”

He got even more pissy about my “ass out of ‘u’ and me” message but at least he stopped talking about me being “upset.” I asked him if he was going to stop by later tonight and he said sure. I figured he would just tell me he wasn’t coming later like he always does when he gets like this. Well lets fast forward to right now. 

Right now he’s currently at the beach with some friends, which is fine I have no issues with that, my issue is the fact that they are all incredibly fucked up and making a 1 hour drive home. He knows how I feel about being inebriated and driving and yet he does it. All I asked was 

“You ever make it to the beach?”

Which he responded 

“Hey babe I don’t mean to be a dick but I don't think I’ll make it over there until around 2 a.m. if so.”

I’m a little stunned by this response; especially because it had nothing to do with what I had asked. So I responded with the only thing I could which was

“Ok, thanks for letting me know. I have to stay up anyway but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

He usually takes answers like this as me blowing off steam and assumes I’m upset, mad, or disappointed. so I added

“I am not trying to be a dick, I am not mad, don’t assume I am.”

to which he responded

“We’re on our way back and I’m on a good one. I’m planning on leaving about 2 a.m. to head over if that’s ok but I may just pass out.”

This upset me more because he wasn’t just blowing me off to go hang with friends... he was blowing me off to get fucked up with friends and do reckless shit he knows I would never approve of. 

Last time he did this it was to hang out and do shrooms with his friends. He even knew I would lose it if I caught wind so he hid it from me for months. He knows exactly how I feel about psychotropics and I even told him when we started dating that I will never again be with a guy who chooses to do psychotropics. He hid it from me until I told him that I would rather he be honest with me, even if it hurts, than he lie to me. He told me then and I was upset but I took it as him being honest and didn’t blow my lid. He was even sincere in his apology to me and sore he would never touch them again... but I know what a stoner’s words are worth. 

I know he means well, and wants to do good by me, but honestly... I don’t think he is ready. He doesn’t understand that he is going to have to give up certain things he enjoys for me. I have sacrificed so much to be with him and all because I love him more than what I gave up. My boundaries are simple:

Don’t lie to me.

Don’t cheat on me.

Don’t do psychotropics or other hard drugs.

Don’t be an alcoholic.

Don’t sugar coat.

That is all I ever ask and yet no one has ever respected them. No one has ever sacrificed for me... not even Charles. I think in time he will be ready, but right now he is too young. He’s new to the adult world, he wants to explore, tempt fate, discover, experience. He is not yet ready.

But oh well it’s my fault for saying something in the 1st place, right?

[tranquil-depression]

Fiery Passions...

Since I was 5 years old I have known what my passion in life is and that is art. It's the only thing to truly calm me, make me happy, move me.... It makes me feel alive and sets my soul ablaze until the roar of it's flames sings like a choir. But it's also my greatest pain in life.

When I first began to truly dedicate my time and efforts to drawing it was amazing. From the time I woke until I couldn't stay awake anymore I practiced. Page after page after page I filled with my attempts, my practices, my thoughts, ideas, dreams... Within 3 years I had produced 1000s of pieces; all of which showed progress as I learned and honed my skill. I knew they weren't great by any means but I still took pride in my accomplishment. The fact that I had gone from sloppy stick figures to full figures was enough to drive me to do more. I had every confidence in myself that I could one day be a great artist whose work would be worthy enough to hang in a gallery.

And as I got older I kept the dream alive. I branched out into other forms of art. Rather than just making 1000s of illustrations, I began to paint. 1st was the acrylics, then water colors, then oils. When that didn't suffice I took up sculpting; first clay, then wood, then wax, then stone, and metal.... But it wasn't enough. I changed my medium; used charcoal, chalk, blood, ink, coffee anything I could think of. And when it wasn't enough I began to sew, do origami, crochet, cross stitch, do photography, do re-paints, paper mache, figurine painting... there is just so much. I even brached out into different styles like abstract, modern, traditional, renaissance, impressionist, cubisim... I have tried so many. I have even switched to digital media recently.

But some where in all this experimentation I have lost my way. I fed the fire with so much fuel that all that remains is the smoldering coals. What was once a vast untouched land ripe for exploration is now nothing more than the burned remains of my progress. There is no longer a path I can follow. I just feel so lost. I can't even bring myself to pick up a pencil and draw like I did when my journey 1st began and it kills me everytime I try. I wish I could take it all back. Go back to the days when my Mistress was kind, and loving. All she does now is torments me for not being good enough.... Why am I not good enough?