A New Kind Of Depression

I’m isolating myself. I’m aware that I am. And I know that I should stop but I don’t want to and I don’t think I can.

I’ve felt depressed before, but never like this. It used to feel almost…comical before, it didn’t feel too serious most of the time and I could deal with it. But this time…I don’t know. It’s just different.

And I was doing so well too. I was making new friends, getting out there and doing things that I never used to be able to do. But then suddenly, after one little spurt of anxiety that I posted about a few days ago, I was plunged into this terrible sink hole of depression.

For example, I’m sitting in the bath writing this right now because I had sudden urge to get this all down, and as I stepped into the bath I instantly began imagining ways that I could drown myself. That’s never happened before. I’ve never done something so casual and boring and began to turn it into some horrific death scene.

Now, I’m not suicidal. I know I’m not. I can always tell when I’m suicidal and this is not one of those times. I just feel…empty. And numb. And when I’m in these states I start to think about things like self harm and suicide. I had to stop myself a few minutes ago as I had an urge to cut myself and began rifling around in the bathroom cabinet for scissors. I found some, and as I ran my finger along the blade I came to my senses and shoved them back in the cabinet, slamming it closed.

I just keep thinking that life is so pointless and tedious, why should I even try? I’ve had multiple friends ask me to go to the movies or go out and do something with them, and every time I’ve made up excuses about why I can’t go. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything. All I’ve been doing is lying on the couch eating junk food, which I know may sound like heaven to some people, and to me it usually does too, but doing it in a depressed manner is not fun. I just lie there and think about how depressed and empty I feel, and by doing that, I’m starting to feel more and more of those two things.

But I don’t even want to try to do anything about it like I used to. In some ways, I’m content with just being alone and drowning in my own misery. But I know that I’m going to have to come out of it sometime soon, when I go back to school and when mum comes home, at least partially. I’ll have to start faking smiles and cracking jokes again. And honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that when the time comes. I actually don’t know if I can go back to school. It’ll either send me over the edge and make me snap, or it will help to get me back on the right track again, it will fill my time and help me organise myself.

Either way, I’ll guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

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“It’s Not A Big Deal”

I had the first run in with my anxiety that I’ve had in quite a while today and I really just felt like writing about it, despite my repeated desertion of this blog.

So one of my friends, I’ll just call her P, whom I only met at the beginning of this year, asked me to go to the movies with her and this guy, J, and his friend. At first I was like ‘yeah! This sounds fun!’ but then, as I always do, I began to think. And think. And think. And think and think and think until I couldn’t think anymore. My head was pounding, filled with thoughts of ‘they’ll all hate me’, ‘they’ll think I’m weird’, ‘it’s going to be so awkward’ until my ears started to ring and I felt like I’d swallowed a stone. So I texted Ash, my best friend, and asked her to come with me. At first she said yes and I was feeling much more confident knowing that I would have someone there who could support me, but then we had to change the day on which we were going to the movies and Ash informed me that she would no longer be able to go.

And so started the downward spiral.

I started to panic (to be honest, I still am), thinking that I couldn’t do this by myself, that I was going to have a panic attack, that everyone would think I was crazy. So I started to message Penny, one of my close internet friends who I tell practically everything, spamming her with messages about what was happening and how I was panicking terribly. But then I stopped myself on about the 20th message and began to message Ash instead who I thought might be able to help me in a different way. So I started to confide in her, telling her that I was feeling really anxious about going without her and I didn’t know if I could do it. After an agonising 30 seconds she responded saying something negative about P, instead of trying to calm me down or help me out, which I was kind of expecting. But I brushed it off and continued the conversation, asking her if there was anyway she could come. So we continued to talk about the possibility of some different days that we could go, and she was quite helpful sometimes, saying that if I started to feel really anxious we could catch a bus to her house, but then, for no apparent reason, I started to panic again. I messaged her saying something like ‘One minute I want to go and the next I feel like vomiting from nerves. I don’t think I can do this’. Keep in mind that I really struggle with opening up to people about my anxiety so I was trying really hard to be open with her. But her response was probably the worse thing that she could have possibly said to me in that moment.

‘It’s not a big deal’.

I dropped my phone on my bed in shock and disbelief. I started to get the shakes, my head pounding again and my ears ringing. Falling onto my bed, I curled up into a ball, tears in my eyes as those words bounced around in my head until I couldn’t stand it anymore and wanted to claw my eyes out. Not a big deal.

To say that my anxiety is not a big deal is like saying that cancer isn’t that bad. You’ll get over it. And sure, maybe I will get over my anxiety, but saying that to me just made me panic even more. My heart is still racing at 500 miles an hour and tears still keep forming in my eyes. And I don’t want to be that girl who’s all like ‘no one understands me, I’m so alone’, but truly, I don’t think a lot of people understand what it’s like to be afraid to go the movies. The bloody movies. Or the supermarket. Or to see your nan. Or to get on the bus. It’s these stupid everyday things that are always the end of me, and everyone thinks I’m crazy for obsessing over situations like these but they really don’t get it. I’m afraid of going to the movies just like people are afraid to go to a haunted house. Every single time I go somewhere is like stepping into a haunted house. Anything could jump out at me and send me into that hurricane of panic and dark thoughts.

I’m still having trouble even looking at my phone. I keep going to pick it up, then jumping away from it like it’s 1000 degrees. Every time it vibrates I inch away from it a little more because I don’t even want to know what else she sent me. And I know it’s not her fault that she (yes, I am going to use this tainted word) triggered me, but if there was one sentence that would have convinced me to go to the movies, ‘It’s not a big deal’ was the complete opposite of that.

All I want to do is curl up in a ball on my couch with a book and my laptop and sit there until I’m forced to go to school again. I don’t want to have to see anyone or do anything. I’m done trying to confide in people, because it seems that every time I try, nothing good comes out of it. In fact, most of the time, something terrible comes out of it. So I’m done trying. I’m probably going to log out of all my social media for the rest of the winter holidays so I can try to relax even in the slightest.

Anyway, sorry for being a drama queen but that’s how my day went today. I’ll actually put a little bit of effort in this time to keep uploading here and document my somewhat interesting life.

Have a great day everyone.

Oh and for all the 18+ Aussies out there:

VOTE YES!

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My Country, My Home

Recently I’ve gotten back into running, which I used to do everyday after school, and I only realised how much I missed it once I started up again. I’ve been out running only twice this week because of the unpredictable weather and my volleyball game/netball training during the week, but those two times that I’ve been out have been the best moments in my day each time.

I literally got back from a run about 5 minutes ago and the reason I decided to so hastily write this is because today, as I stopped to catch my breath, I lent on the gate to a paddock and looked out across the rolling hills and trees dotted among flocks of sheep and shimmering dams. There is absolutely no place in the world that I feel safer and at home than out in the middle of nowhere with only my neighbors and I’s houses and the cows and sheep mooing and baaing from dawn till dusk. There is no where I feel happier than strolling across wide open paddocks and leaning against a towering tree to stare out into the muddy dams and endless hills on the horizon. I love the place I live more than anything, and recently I’ve been taking that for granted, so as I walked away from the paddock and continued on my run, I made a vow to myself that I would spend every minute I could out in those paddocks and under those trees. Because who knows when that could all be taken away from me.

I know this was a super random post, cause I’ve been away for ages (even though I said I would try to get back into blogging) but I just felt really inspired to start blogging again today. Who knows if it will stick, but I’ll try to stick to my usual Sunday posting schedule. So we’ll see if I remember to post next week. Fingers crossed!

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My Relapse

Perhaps one of the worst things that could happen when you’ve been clean for 6+ months is relapsing. I’ve done it before, and I’m starting to feel the urge to do it again. But I’m trying to resist as much as possible because these last few months, I’ve felt truly happy. I have a loving a family, friends I can trust and be honest with, a good education and so much more and it was making me feel like a normal person again. But of course my stupid ass brain decided that it was time to feel shitty about myself again.

As I was recovering from all of the shit that happened in 2016 and earlier in 2017, I started to realise what the real cause of my anxiety and depression was.

My body image.

I’ve never been happy with my body and every time I look at it, it makes me feel sick. Every part of my body, I hate. And I think that that’s why I self harmed and obsessed over the tiniest things. For a while I stopped caring what other people thought of my body, and I was mildly happy with it, but I’ve started to become obsessed with weight and food and exercise again. I don’t want to tell you what goes through my mind because I know that if I do that some of you would try to stop me but I really don’t want to be stopped because I’m sick and tired of feeling fat and ugly. I know that I can never change the way my face is and that’s fine I’ve accepted that fact of life. But I CAN change the way that my body looks and so that’s what I’ve been trying to do.

But the reason I’ve become scared about this whole thing is that I’ve started to think about self harm again. I think maybe it became such a norm to me with all the trying to lose weight stuff that as I’ve started to make this whole probably deranged plan in my head, self harm has kept popping into it. But that’s not what I want to do. I really don’t want to have to go through hiding my scars from people and feeling guilty and stupid all over again. It was tiring and draining and I hated it but at the same time, I’m craving it.

Fuck, it’s like an addiction. It seriously is. My hands are shaking, I want it so bad. I really don’t want to give in and let my body do what it wants but I feel like I really really really need to. God, I hate how all this shit makes me feel. I honestly don’t think I can restrain myself. I need to see blood and feel the stinging sensation from hot water on fresh wounds.

I’m sorry. To myself and all of you but I can’t do it. I’m weak and I don’t deserve any of the nice things that I know people will say to me. No one can save me, not even myself because I’m to fucking weak and selfish.

Who knew that relapsing could be so easy.

 

Coming Out – I’m bi!

So…uh…long time no see?

Okay, okay, enough dawdling. I’M SORRY. I’m aware that I have been away from this blog for a REALLY long time and I have many excuses lined up in my head to explain to you guys but really, it doesn’t matter why I was away, all that matters now is that I’m back!

Although, don’t hold me to that cause who knows if I’m going to get lazy again and forget that this blog exists.

Anyway, the reason I’m back on my blog today is because recently I’ve started to kind of accept something about myself that I’ve previously kind of pushed away or pretended was just a phase or something. And I don’t know, maybe it is a phase and I’m being a typical curious teenager, but either way it’s something that I wanted to talk to you guys about.

This feels weird for me to type and it’s making me feel really emotional for some reason…I guess I should just come out and say it…

I think I’m bisexual.

Oh god even just typing that was nerve wracking how the hell am I going to post this ahaha.

I don’t really know what else to say. I’ve watched and read so many coming out posts and videos where they go on and on about the relief they feel and how excited and nervous they are, and while yes, I do feel slightly nervous, this definitely isn’t a big deal to me.

I don’t really feel the need to come out to my friends and family, I might in the future but at the moment I feel no need to. I don’t know why but it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. It’s just another part of my identity. And not everyone needs to know every single thing about me so why should I tell them if I don’t really want to. Some of you may disagree with me on this, but really, I feel like my sexuality doesn’t define who I am or my personality. So what if I find girls attractive as well as guys? It doesn’t really matter.

I don’t even really know how I know that I might be bi. And I keep saying ‘might’ because I’m still not entirely sure. I’ve never been with a girl (I’ve never really properly been with a guy either though), I’ve definitely had my fair share of girl crushes, but I’ve never properly considered dating a girl in reality until recently. The thing is though, I can imagine myself very clearly with a girl in the future. And I think the time that I actually do come out to family and maybe some friends will be when I’m 100% sure that I am bi. At the moment I’m still kind of like, uh but do I REALLY want to date girls??? I don’t know my brain is just confused at the moment.

Strangely, the thing that motivated me to accept this part of myself was watching Orange Is The New Black. I watched the new season recently and missed the show so much that I decided to re-watch the whole thing and while I’ve been watching, I’ve kind of realised how much I would love being in a relationship with a girl. I feel like girls can understand each other so much better and it’s easier for girls to see when another girl is feeling down or to see when a girl is being moody cause she’s on period and understanding that. I feel like that kind of connection is something most people could never have with a guy and I personally think that kind of compatibility is really important in a relationship.

Going back to why I don’t feel the need to come out to anyone else, I just kind of feel like it’s not really relevant to my family at the moment because I’m 1) unsure, and 2) don’t have a girlfriend. Until I’m 100% sure and have actually experienced being with a girl, I’m probably not going to tell them. My reason for not really wanting to tell friends is a bit different to my reason for not telling family though.

At my school, being gay or bi, etc isn’t necessarily looked down upon but the people who are gay are definitely kind of outcasted sometimes and they’re seen as a bit weird or too queer. I feel like if I told even 1 friend who wasn’t Ash (I know she would never spread rumors or secrets about me) it would definitely get spread around the school and I would be SO uncomfortable with that. I don’t need people who I’m not friends with knowing my sexuality. As I said before, I just find that totally unnecessary. And I definitely think I would get treated differently. I would maybe consider telling Ash at some point but I definitely don’t think that it’s something I’ll be stressing about. I would probably only tell her spontaneously, like if LGBTQ+ subjects came up in our conversation or we were telling each other secrets or something like that. I think that if I’m ever going to come out to all my friends, I want to be out of high school and in uni or graduated from uni. High school is such a toxic place filled with so much hate and I’d rather not have to deal with any discrimination or drama along with the struggles of surviving as a teenager.

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to talk about in this post so I hope you enjoyed! I’m aware it was kind of random and out of the blue but hopefully I can get back into the swing of blogging soon. Please keep in my mind that everything I discussed in this post is MY opinion and I am in no way telling you that you shouldn’t come out to your friends and family or keep your sexuality a secret, I’m just saying that for me personally, I don’t want to. Do whatever makes you happy, my friends!

Thanks for reading!

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The Years To Come

Life is moving by so quickly.

In merely 9 days I’m going to be 15. 15! It’s such a small number, yet it seems so enormous and encompassing. I’ve been on this Earth for 15 years. 15 years where I’ve seen tragedy, joy, illness, destruction, actions of kindness that only occur every so often and everything in between. Hell, I even remember when nobody worried about climate change and everyone said things like “that won’t happen in my lifetime”. Look at the world now. I wonder what those people are thinking now.

In 5 weeks, semester 2 is going to start. It’s going to be term 3. That means that we are almost half way through the year.

It’s going to be June in 3 days. We only have 6 months left of 2017. Why do I feel like I’ve done nothing in that time? In 6 months you could be in your second trimester of pregnancy. In 6 months you could have traveled the whole of Europe. You could do so many things in 6 months but here I am sitting in my bedroom and all I have to show for 6 months are some crappy paintings, mediocre grades and a fucked up ankle.

Side note: Oh yeah by the way last weekend I fell over at netball and stuffed my ankle up so I had to go to hospital and get x rays and shit and they told me that I tore some really big ligaments in my foot which sucks and they said that if it doesn’t heal properly then I won’t be able to play netball ever again which I am sort of panicking about because netball is my escape and I love it with a passion so I can’t give it up. Okay deep breaths ha that was a long old sentence.

On June 3rd I’m going to be in Queensland. I’m going to Cairns and then Port Douglas which are cities up around the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and we’re going snorkeling and we’re gonna walk through the rain forests. It’s gonna be so fucking fun. I’ll definitely write a blog post for you guys about it when I get back.

At the end of this year I’ll be going on year 9 camp where we go to Sydney and basically do like a mini Amazing Race sort of thing.

I’m going to a Harry Styles concert in Sydney in December.

I’m going to an Ed Sheeran concert in March 2018.

I’m going to be in year 10.

I’m going to be 16

I’m going to learn to drive.

I’m going to graduate from high school.

I’m going to be in college (by the way college in Australia is year 11 and 12, not university).

I’m going to be in year 11.

I’m going to be a senior.

I’m going to be 17.

I’m going to get my P plates.

I’m going to get a job.

I’m going to be in year 12.

I’m going to be 18.

I’m going to be able to drink alcohol.

I’m going to graduate.

I’m going to go to university.

All of the stuff that I’ve listed above is all the shit that’s going to happen in the next 3 and a half years. 3 and a half fucking years. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. But yet, these next 3 and a half years are going to be the craziest years of my life so far.

And to be honest, I’m looking forward to it.

But I’m also a little scared.

But that’s okay. Because being scared means that you’re self aware. It means that you know that not everything is going to be perfect and you’re going to make mistakes and there’s going to be times when everything really fucking sucks. But you’ll get through it. And I know that because if you’re still here, alive right now, living on this Earth, then you’ve gotten through everything else.

So why couldn’t you get through this?

 

 

My Message To Everyone || #Manchester

Why?

That’s what I ask when I look at my phone in the morning and see piles of tweets and news stories all giving condolences and voicing their sadness. 

Why. 

Why are people so cruel? Why does this keep happening? Why can’t the world see that it’s not about ‘you’ and ‘me’ but it’s about US. 

Black, white, Asian, Latin, catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, Islamic, male, female, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, asexual. 

Us. 

Open your eyes and see that the world should not be divided into groups like we’re all in high school again, ignoring the weird kid that wears black all the time and has eyeliner smudged under his eyes. 

But that weird kid wearing black all the time and that has eyeliner smudged under his eyes is the only one seeing true sense. He’s the one who sees that none of this really matters in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t care about being in the football team or getting the hot girls. He just exists. 

And that boy is those of us who have any common sense in this world. Those of us who see that none of these things really matter. We shouldn’t be separating ourselves into the ‘gays’, the ‘whites’, the ‘blacks’, the ‘catholics’, the ‘islams’, the ‘refugees’.

STOP. 

This isn’t how the world should be. The world should be filled with kindness and care for others. 

Not bombs exploding in stadiums filled with young girls. Not gunshots going off in cafes. Not pictures and videos of heads disappearing off bodies. Not planes plunging into buildings seaming with innocent people. 

And I ask myself all these questions but still, I come up with no answer. 

But you. You, tell me why?

Why has the world turned to such a dark place?

Why can none of us see the light anymore?

Why are parents and siblings and children without their loved ones?

Why are people afraid to go out in the streets at night?

All I want is an answer. 

Why.