tryingnottolosehope

[tryingnottolosehope]

Small Hands

She is very childish and sometimes I feel too tired to fool around with her, but other times she lightens my heart with her playfulness.

Sometimes we wrestle, sometimes we do cartwheels, and sometimes we try not to laugh because we have water in our mouths.

A lot of the things that you want to do but never do, she just gets up and does it. It seems silly and embarrassing but she does it anyway and that’s why I love her.

Maybe she’s seeking attention but I like it when she’s seeking my attention. I love when she repeats things that have made me laugh before because she knows it’ll make me laugh again. I love when I join in on the absurdity and she cheers me on.

She brings out the child in me which I feel like I push away all too often. I love when we can be two adults embracing our inner child because it is then when I feel the most innocent joy.

[tryingnottolosehope]

Victim Mentality

I have been sober for the past few days as I am staying with family. My family treats me well, and I believe the only family member who ever hurt me was my own Mother. The subject of my Mother is frequently brought up within therapy sessions, within inside jokes with my friends, and within my family consultations. Various therapists blame my mental instability on my upbringing, my friends understand that I feel safer keeping a distance from my Mother, and my family is constantly worried about my lack of communication with my own Mother. 

In all honestly, she wasn’t a terrible Mother. She just wasn’t the Mother I needed, or even wanted. There are many reasons why I believed we were not compatible, however, I have talked about this too much that I feel no desire to share it with you. I would instead like to talk about my dilemma with victim mentality. I have picked up on some habits I have that indicate self-pity, and may actually be a form of victim mentality. 

I had always thought about this in the back of my mind, but the though materialised last week when a friend suggested I improve my mental health through activities such as reading and exercising and I dismissed him. I said “I know you’re trying to help, but I’ve done these things and they don’t help.” This statement is true, however, it made me think “Why do I easily accept defeat?” It’s almost as though I don’t want to commit to these activities so I tell myself they are pointless. 

The victim mentality is dangerous because once I realise “nothing can cure my depression” I fall into this self-loathing because I feel bad for myself for not being able to feel happiness from tasks that make most happy, then I hate myself for having this hopeless attitude and feeling bad for myself for having this attitude. It’s just a toxic cycle of self-pity and hatred. 

I think the first way to tackle this is by establishing and following a routine. I have tried this in the past, and it does not work. It does not work because I refuse to believe there are any true benefits from just doing a certain activity at and by a certain time. What fucking difference does it make if I go to the gym at 3pm instead of 2pm I often wonder. This pessimistic attitude makes it very difficult for me to commit to these activities, thus, I do not follow the routine and I loop back to the conclusion that nothing can cure my depression.

Perhaps it is the victim mentality. 

[tryingnottolosehope]

Yin and Yang

What a struggle it is to consistently feel okay. Rather than having this middle ground of “feeling content,” I feel as though I am forever battling between feelings of hope and hopelessness. I aspire to become emotionally mature enough for my contradicting feelings to eventually compliment one another. 

I think many of us find comfort in the idea of duality. The sense that the world and its elements are balanced, and that we can learn to embrace this balance. I have always found the practice of mindfulness very challenging as a person who experiences many negative thoughts. I always want to surround myself with so called “mentally stable” people but when I do surround myself with these people I feel even more disconnected from normality and become more aware of my mental instability. 

[tryingnottolosehope]

Waking up to a Beer

I am a functioning alcoholic. I can drink a bottle of vodka at 12AM and make it to my 8AM shift. I started drinking at a young age, thirteen in fact, and it was simply a social activity. I remember the first time I ever felt tipsy, I was at the beach with my newly found friends and we ran away from the fireworks that kept toppling over in the soft sand. I remember leaving the beach that night in my friend’s car and I had my head out the window to gaze at the beautiful stars. For the first time in a while, I had finally felt happy. 

Thirteen was easily the was my worst year. I first handedly watched my best friend fall victim to depression and self-harm. As a person who could not fathom why such a beautiful person could hate themselves so passionately, I tried to provide her with the love she lacked for herself. As a result of investing so deeply in someone so broken, I lost grip of self-love and the meaning of it all. I fell out with my best friend and I had to deal with these new feelings on my own. I relied on the wrong people and came out even more broken after opening up to people about what I was experiencing. 

Being drunk was truly the best coping mechanism. I could avoid the potential backlash of opening up to people. I found comfort in something inanimate. Now looking back at it I realise it was truly unhealthy. My newly found friends from the beach did not struggle as much with their mental health, and thus, drinking was more a social activity than a coping mechanism for complicated emotions.

I do believe it could have been any substance, but alcohol was the first I experimented with so it just stuck around. My whole personality is shaped by alcohol. If people were describe me they would definitely mention my alcoholic behaviour because I unintentionally display it. I go to university drunk, I go to dates drunk, and I am more than certain that I will go to babyshowers drunk if I ever had to go. 

Today I write this entry because I woke up early in the morning, cleaned the apartment, showered, and made myself a meal. I am thinking of going to the gym, therapy, and a car meet. I will dress nice and I will wear makeup. I do, however, notice the beer to the side of my computer. I do not drink beer but I did last night. The beer next to me stands as a reminder of my addiction that is always there with me though my most functional moments. I will be drinking while doing an essay or making a table. 

The beer, in a sense is a metaphor, but it will not remain next to my computer. By tonight I will have consumed a bottle of gin and the beer. I have not given up the idea of being sober, I just think alcohol provides me with many benefits. I think I would like to work on changing this perspective, rather than the habit, because as long as this perspective exists I will be drawn to some kind of substance. 

[tryingnottolosehope]

Hurts to Hurt

Perhaps I am imagining things, but I feel like the effects on my anti-depressants have finally worn off. I was overwhelmed with emotion not too long ago and had a break down which I had managed to avoid for the last few months. I have come to terms with my emotions because although there is plenty bad at least there is some good. I truly couldn't feel a part of the life happening around me on my anti-depressants.

I write this entry because I'm in excruciating pain. The emotions are difficult to bear on my own but I don't think they are rational enough for me to share. The emotions seem to be an end product of empathy. I care too nuch about others and it hurts me knowing that many struggle, especially my loved ones.

I have also gained an interest in bonding once again. Previously I felt as though bonding was meaningless as it provided me with such little reward in the long run.

Eventually something goes wrong between us and the bond dissolves.

Typically I blame myself for the wrongs in the relationship. Although this may not be completely true it often feels like it is. It is extremely difficult to maintain a meaningful relationship when you find yourself stumbling into your dark thoughts.

People have shown me affection and for reasons of self-hatred and pre-existing commitments, I struggle to accept it. I have reoccurring worries about romantic relationships because I feel I am committing to a role I cannot continue to fulfill. I see myself doing well at first then crumbling due to my destructive thoughts.

It hurts not being loved I think, but it hurts more knowing you hurt the person who loves you. I know I am not mentally stable enough for a long time partner yet I yearn for love. I love to love and I love to be loved.

The battle I face right now is whether I want to live or die. I think anti-depressants increase my chance of suicide but I have a more logical stance and feel less emotionally distressed. In contrast, the lack of chemicals makes me emotionally vulnerable, however, it also helps me experience good things in life which gives me a reason to stay alive.

[tryingnottolosehope]

Seeds

I like the concept of gardening very much. The responsibility that follows with raising a living thing is quite strong. I am currently under the influence so please excuse any incomprehensive writing. 

I believe seeds are a symbol of life and because of that, I name this entry “seeds.” I believe there is an element of beauty when bringing light very dark topics. The topic of mental health has been discussed much by the people of this generation, especially as a welfare concern. 

I am watching a show at the moment, and I am aware that the content of the shape was molded on the youth of this generation. The youth of this generation is one that I can relate to. The youth have a better understanding of the world we live in, and they concluded that much was wrong and much was fixable. 

As seeds are a sign of life to me, the youth of this era also give me some hope. I believe that people of my age group voiced their struggles, especially in regards to mental wellbeing that much of today’s media is shaped around the importance of our beliefs. We forced them to be heard, and as the next generation of major consumers, they have to accommodate to our values. 

I believe our values to be better than of the people before. We are less cruel. 

[tryingnottolosehope]

Dear My First Reader

I see my previous entry was recognised by someone. This entry is for you: 

I have a red lamp in my room. I originally bought it because I thought it was uncommon, and I liked that. I set it up on my dresser in front of my mirror. At night I turned the lamp on and looked into the mirror. I was surprised to see a pleasant face in the mirror. I suffered from acne you see, and the red light created an illusion in which my face was clear. I saw myself without one of my greatest flaws and craved this alternative self.

I used to write regularly to control my emotions. Every night I would write in my red room in front of my mirror. Sometimes I would write reflections of myself, sometimes I would write my understanding of the world, sometimes I would write poems, and sometimes I would write a list of things I hated about myself. 

I would have liked to share a poem with you, however, I left all my bits and pieces of writing in boxes of a room I will never see again.

I have never been particularly good at writing poems, but here is one for you:

Time seems to dissolve 

Like my ability to solve

The root of my problems seem so close to home 

I cant help but think its a syndrome 

Is my inability to feel gratification 

Linked to my cognation

How do I break this chain 

Of intergenerational pain

Is the structure of my brain 

Making love hard to attain

How do you outgrow 

The chemical imbalance in your blood flow 

How do you evolve 

To ignore the trauma pills wont resolve 

How do you exist

When simpler times are missed

With every second that passes by 

I wonder when my mental state will stop becoming my alibi 

I hope to see the day 

I am no longer burdened with gray 

For in the end 

We are still clay that can be mend

[tryingnottolosehope]

My Purpose

I am back on tumblr as an adult seeking some sort of comfort I seemed to have displaced years ago. 

They tell you not to rely on anti-depressants because it will make your emotions go numb, and that was exactly what I craved. I don’t even think I have been on these anti-depressants long enough to feel numb but I do. I feel no pleasure. Everything feels dead to me. I understand why anti-depressants increase suicidal feelings, its because life really feels pointless when nothing gives you pleasure. 

I think we all want to feel numb, but its hard to say whether I prefer this to feeling everything. When I feel everything the bad is really bad and the good is really good. Right now everything is more bad than good but still mediocre. 

What used to be irrational suicidal thoughts has now become a long term desire. 

My therapist tells me that I should view suicide as a plane flying with a banner. She said the banner represents the suicidal thoughts, and once the plane flies away so does the thoughts. She said don’t dwell on it too hard. 

What I think she doesn’t understand is that I don’t dwell on it hard, but if I had to describe my suicidal thoughts metaphorically I would say it’s like a dead body in a coffin, six feet underground. It’s like that bit of skin that’s lightly peeled off the side of your finger nail. It’s like when I got high for the first time and I felt sick but I told myself its “all in my head.” 

What I’m trying to say is that it’s not a big enough discomfort for me to consider it an actual threat or a restraint on my life. 

I titled my first piece “my purpose” because I don’t have one and I never have had one. Personally I don’t believe there is a purpose to life; its simply what it is. I would consider this a reasonable thought, however, reasoning often takes away the privilege of bliss. I would like to feel blissful. Maybe that is an overstatement , but yes, I would like to feel less miserable and I believe I can achieve this if I somehow discover a purpose for myself.

I am writing this entry because I think this will guide me to my purpose. I have felt pain for far too long for me not to express it to the world, perhaps the world can heal me or perhaps my words can heal you.

Although I do not hold any skills of a good writer, I am miserable and an alcoholic which seems to fit the description of most cunty writers who made somewhat of an impact on the world.

I write this to no one in particular. I am unsure what to even do if this post gets any reach. I think I will just silently document my feelings until I lose all hope or perhaps gain some.