i'm struggling again, as always

 i'm starting to think again that recovery isn't possible and that good days are just days where my world isn't ending. it is almost impossible to think anything else.

whenever i think i'm on the up i quickly hit rock bottom again. but this time the bottom is lower than it ever has been and i don't think theres a way out of this one. it feels like this is where i will be forever, and maybe it will maybe it won't. even if it isn't when i come up from the bottom i'll have nothing to show for it. i tell myself pushing everyone away is best for me to work on myself but really i think it's just a way of pushing everyone away, and it's a really good one at that. i don't know what to do.

my doctor won't help. not that i'm surprised but everytime i force myself to make that call i wonder why i ever did. i feel too guilty to burden my friends with the thoughts of my brain on my worst nights, my tonights. so i say i'm coping when i'm not. i say i'm doing fine just after another relapse or another glass of wine. i say it will be better soon as i contemplate whether this is worth it anymore.

my brain is constant thoughts. constant thoughts that bring up so much anxiety that i don't know what to do with. i just want a moment of quiet. a moment where i don't think about how i ruined everything and i still don't know what i even did in the first place. a moment where i don't fear everyone finding out i'm not as clean as they thought i'd be because how do you tell someone your 18 months is actually 24 hours. i thought i would be past this by now. i'm soon going to reach a point where self harm has been my enemy for half my life and the idea of that makes me want to not exist even more.

they say it's a bad day but not a bad life. but how many more bad days can i take? i can't remember the last time i had a good day that ended as a good day. a good day where my mental health didn't take the reigns.

the worst part is i'm trying. i have been trying. i've been trying to get medical help, i've been doing things that help my brain rather than sabtotaging it. but what does any of that matter when i'm here right now. at 5am wondering whether i can do this for another day as i chug my vodka wine mixture even though i have a killer headache. wondering whether it's even worth it.

wondering how i tell my mum. my dad. wondering if it's even worth talking about it. 

i've felt this all before. it's all gone away before but i'm struggling to believe it will go away this time. i'm tired. and i don't know how to make it stop.

it'll stop any day now

 the past however many years now of my life have been recovery then not then recovery then not again on repeat. whenever i feel like i'm getting somewhere, life soon throws a curveball and i feel right back where i started.

it doesn't seem to take much anymore to throw me back into a depressive episode, and the last 6 months have just felt like one long depressive episode with little glimmers of hope that make me think i'm getting back on track.

the truth is i'm not.

i feel stuck in a rut, living a lifethat has no meaning. i feel years behind everyone else my age. by now i wanted to have moved out, in a full time job i love, having travelled to whereever i want to go and maybe even be in a happy relationship. instead i'm still working part time in a job i was supposed to leave over a year ago, barely most of the time staying alive and struggling to do anything. i feel like part of me is still trying to understand and comprehend the idea of being alive and doing life because i didn't think truly i would or could make it this far.

and it's taken me a lot of time to accept that it's okay. it's okay that i'm not doing what i want to be doing because i will be one day. as many people are, i'm finding it hard to adjust back to normal life now that covid restrictions are easing. simply going into work now is anxiety inducing, hanging out with friends feels 10 times harder and i am struggling to figure out how to be myself again.

but the truth is this is myself. my new self. my best creative, better in tune with my emotions self. the self that puts themselves first (some of the time) rather than the person who would do anything even if they didn't want to because they didn't want to hurt anyone else. this self is finally (slowly) trying to sort herself out some help, taking breaks when i need to. she understands her limits, knows that it's okay to say no.

i am a different person than i was how ever many years ago. i'm a different person than i was pre covid and even though not all of these changes are good, many of them are. and it will be okay, eventually.

darker days

it is getting harder to decide whether this is currently a low point in a better time or a higher point in a worse time. i don't know whether i can count this as recovery anymore but i don't think mentally i can do anything but.

if i had a dollar for everytime i have said i sound like a broken record i could probably afford a lifetime of therapy, but talking about my mental health in this capacity truly feels like it. i haven't blogged in 6 weeks, because i have not wanted to talk about how i am feeling. sometimes coming to terms with how terribly you are doing does nothing but make everything worse and whilst even though this is probably one of those times, i don't think right now i could feel worse so i have nothing to lose.

everyday this week has felt like a low. i'm have spent all my energy the last 2 weeks simply persuading myself to stay alive and i don't know how much longer i can carry on doing it. i am in a cycle of self sabotage and my brain is a constant stream of intrusive thoughts mixed with suicidal ideation. as painful as it is to admit it, i don't think my mental health has ever been worse and that scares the shit out of me. with each passing day i feel like i'm just getting worse, that this is just getting worse. i truly thought not long ago that it was getting better but once again it just suddenly and drastically got so much worse and i don't know how much lower it can physically get. 

i am tired of feeling like i am burdening people. if i talk about it i feel like a burden, if i don't i feel like a burden. i am just constantly a burden and i do not know how to not me. 

i am trying to get help but it is harder to do than it should be. even ignoring how hard it is to actually get help, it is hard to get myself to consistently try. but i'm trying. even if it's slowly, i am trying. 

the 2 day break

 

a few days ago it felt like the world was ending, but today everything just feels so light.

a few days ago i just, needed a break. i felt burntout on existing especially in the social world. i felt like i was burdening myself and everyone i loved and i felt so tied to being social all the time that i felt one moment away from exploding. my room was a mess, i had no motivation to do anything and i felt so unhappy in the walls i was living in. 

i made the decision then, i was logging out of everything and giving myself a break. in the 2 and a bit days i was off, not only had i worked twice but i manage to help my brother with his dissertation, deep clean and declutter my room, sort through and donate some clothes, i showered, ate, did some painting and did other things ive been needing to do and i feel so much better already.

from two days. 

i need to do this more, even for just an evening. i need to start to understand my limits better, before they get pushed as far as they did. 

i'm hoping though i'm at least starting back on track to feel like myself again. it's been too long. 

the burden of honesty (reprise)

 it's sometimes hard to look back and see how well my recovery was going compared to how it's going now. and it's even harder to see people with similar recovery archs continue to hit their incredible milestones when i feel like i'm back at square one.

the disappointment i feel for myself is making it impossible to start to get back on track. there are once again not many nights in the week where i don't heavily consider relapse and some days i am not strong enough to not. it wasn't long since i found myself thinking about writing goodbye notes and a few days ago i even found myself writing one.

it's hard when you are feeling so low to see a way out of it. i know one is coming, i've seen it before. but sometimes i still wonder if i'll even survive long enough to see it. 

i always say recovery was never easy but now it feels like it became just fully impossible. at least before i had reasons to feel like depressed and to feel this anxious but now everything in my life seems to be okay but i still can't get through a day without a panic attack.

one thing i told myself recently is that i need to start to also talk about the positives. and for the most part my days are mostly okay but it's really hard to focus on the good when the bad is just so bad.

i just can't stop feeling like a burden. and i can't stop thinking that everyone in my life just hates to be around me. trying to persuade yourself that you are worthy of being happy is one of the hardest things i have ever tried to do, and it feels like it's just getting harder to learn each day. 

and after all of this i tried to get help. i tried so hard. if the people who are supposed to help don't believe you, why would you ever believe yourself?

putting things into perspective

 

whilst i am going through one of my lowest lows in a while, it is still better than my highest highs when i was 13.

i know my limits, i know my boundaries and even though my anxiety is pretty bad it helps with knowing my limits.

i finally have a comfortable, caring and understanding friends that i feel like i can talk to when i need it the most.

music no longer makes me sad and no longer makes me think of painful things. even the saddest songs can bring comfort when they used to bring pain. music can finally make me feel good again when i feel low.

even though i still am recovering from self harm, i relapse signifcantly far less frequently and badly as i used to.

whilst not always, i can mostly get myself to eat when my brain is screaming against it.

i can take ibuprofen again.

i no longer hate how i look. i have miles to go, but i am getting there.

some days are still hard but i have more better/bareable days than i have bad. 

i have stopped actively seeking out content that could trigger me.

i know my worth and i am not afraid of cutting people out of my life who don't respect it.

i'm comfortable in my sexuality.

i think i know i'm going to be okay.

a moment of weakness

 on some days are harder to get out of bed than others. today was one of those days, where i physically could not get up.

i have spent the last two months at one of the lowest points i’ve been with and i cannot even pin why. i keep thinking i’m okay but i think my brain has other ideas.

it’s hard to ask for help when you don’t know what you need help with. i cannot pinpoint a feeling or moment that is keeping me here but i feel like my head is barely staying above water. most days it is not, but i get moments of air that are keeping me from completing drowning.

i hate the metaphors but drowning is the only way i can even slightly express how i am doing. and it isn’t getting easier, if anything with every passing second i am falling deeper without even knowing it.

and i don’t know the way up from here. how could i when absolutely nothing feels wrong, but i cannot get out of bed most days and the days i can the basic things in my life feel overwhelming. just the other day i burst into tears when i simply opened the cupboard to get a plate for some food and just today i had an anxiety attack because i made a fucking tiktok wrong. 

i am so tired and i cannot say it again. i don’t know how else to comprehend and express my feelings than to mindlessly write it down and even with that i can barely do it. some days i just don’t. i just lay in my room with the lights off or, like i did today, i sleep and sleep and sleep until i can just about muster the emotional and physical energy to stay awake.

and relapse is really hard, especially after so long. when you think you are so far away from the person who was hurting so much, but in reality you never stopped being that person. it is hard to come to terms with the fact that  recovery isn’t linear, but more that recovery doesn’t seem to get easier the further along you are. 

everyday just seems to get harder. and it’s getting harder to believe that it’s getting better any time soon.