The Downfall of Me, Myself and I

I’m lying on my bed with the familiar cream coloured sheet pulled over my head, a sheet that has been with me since the beginning, since I first laid my imaginative, functioning eyes on the world.

But instead of cuddling me into a peaceful sleep tonight, they are shielding me – or rather imprisoning me – from the thoughts that bounce around my head and fill the gaps between every bit of bone and muscle in my body.

It’s 12:38 a.m.

Mum came in a few hours ago telling me to go to sleep. But she doesn’t get it. I can’t.

I’ve turned the torch light on my phone on now. I feel like I’m in my own little cocoon, lit up with a beam of bright white light casting shadows of my hands onto the cocoon walls.

I had a little moment earlier today. I went into a stage where I felt…nothing? But it wasn’t nothing.

The best way I can describe it is that I felt nothing and everything at the same time.

It was like my mind had gone into overdrive and every emotion that you could possibly feel was spilling into my brain but at the same time I felt a numbness that surrounded me in a storm of nothing.

So I decided to go for a walk. It was raining but I did it anyway. I went into a field where I tried to climb into a little ravine but fell and hit my head hard on the damp ground. I sat there in the dirt for a while, holding my head in my hands and wanting to cry but not being able to get anything out. Eventually I got up and sat on a little hill for a while, watching as little birds tweeted as they jumped from branch to branch in the tree above me.

Knowing I would have to go back to the condiments of my house and my room and the questioning tones and looks of my family made me want to jump into the ravine headfirst – which I did consider doing for a while as I stood at the very edge of it and stared down at the muddy bottom.

But I walked home. I did it because I knew I had to. For me, there was no other option.

But I just felt – NO, I feel – helpless. Like I will always be like this. Like there’s no end from it. Like I’ll never be normal like everyone else and I’ll never be able to experience things like everyone else.

People always tell you that you’ll be okay and you’ll get through and it gets better. But does it really? Maybe it does from some people. But some people aren’t everyone. Maybe I’ll be that one person who forever lives under a brooding black cloud filled with thoughts of blood and death and fear. Because that’s what this all is.

Fear.

I’m afraid of people.

I’m afraid of embarrassment.

I’m afraid to be alone.

I’m afraid to just be myself.

And because of these fears that I hold, unwillingly, so tightly in my grip, I will never be able to experience the things that normal people do.

I’ll never be able to have a boyfriend for fear of them leaving me, for fear of them hating me, for fear of them ignoring me and disregarding me.

I’ll never be able to truly expose myself to someone like I do on this blog. To openly talk about my feelings and how lost and empty I feel while at the same time having emotions and thoughts overflowing from my brain.

I’ll never be able to be alone and allow myself to be independent and confident.

I might not even be able to have a job as I fear the inevitable embarrassment and awkwardness that I will bring upon myself.

I still crave the blood and the cuts in my skin that I used to have but I try every minute of the day to hold myself back and not let myself be a victim of my own mind.

I should probably go to sleep now. It’s 1:00 a.m. But I probably won’t. I’ll probably sit here for a while longer, disgusted at my own mind and body and the hideousness of it all.

Wish me luck.

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Me vs Food

WARING: If you suffer from an eating disorder, depression or if you’re just really sensitive then maybe skip this post. It’s a tough one.

 

 

I feel like I’m approaching breaking point. Everyday is a battle between my brain and my body.

My body says ‘eat’ and my brain replies ‘no. You’ll get fat’.

My body says ‘stop, that hurts’ and my brain replies ‘no. You have to keep exercising’.

My body says ‘you can stop eating now’ and my brain says ‘you have just a little more. It will be okay’.

But none of this is ever okay.

I’m at a point now where looking in the mirror makes me want to throw up. Seeing myself, my face, my body, it repulses me. Every movement I make forces me to be aware of another part of my body I’m unhappy with. Cross my legs: oh look there’s some leg fat. Look down: oh look there’s a double chin.

I try to prevent myself from doing the thing that makes me feel this way everyday and yet everyday I always feel like I’ve failed. Every time I sit down in front of a meal all I want to do is scream and throw it against the wall. I want to never eat again, I want it all to just go away, and yet each time I’m put in a situation where there’s food and people watching me, I eat to my hearts content. At least that’s what it feels like.

Dinner time has become the worst time of day.

The rest of the time I can get away with eating nothing. Spit out the chewed up food into a tissue when no ones looking, take some snacks to my room and stash them away until I can take them away again. But at dinner time there’s no escaping. I kid myself thinking that no one would notice if I didn’t eat dinner. Of course they would notice. Then there would be questions. And questions would lead to discovery. And discovery would lead to god knows what and I don’t want to deal with it.

I’m just done with feeling fat and worthless and ugly. I disgust myself. And I just keep telling myself that if I lose that 5 kilograms then I’ll feel better. All my problems will go away. But deep in my mind I know that 5 kilograms will lead to 10 kilograms then 15 then 20 until there’s nothing left to lose. But I don’t care.

Because if I’m skinny then I’ll be happy right?

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Facing My Anxiety

Recently I’ve been trying to get a hold on my anxiety. One of the many things that anxiety causes me to do is to bail on social interactions. For example, if someone I’m not entirely comfortable with invites me to the movies or to go to their house or something, initially I agree and think it will be fun, but as it gets closer to the date I usually make up some excuse about why I can’t go. This basically always happens. I don’t even know why, even if I really like the person, my brain suddenly goes into panic mode and I start telling myself that it will be awkward, they’ll think I’m weird, I’m going to be left out of conversations, and so instead of facing my fears I just run away from them.

But this time was different. I’ve made quite a few new friends this year and we kept saying that we wanted to do something together for ages, and so finally we made plans to go to one of our friends houses and hang out. At first I was really excited to, as always, but then Ash and P, my two really good friends that I’m super comfortable with, said that they couldn’t go and I started to panic. I’m good friends with the other girls that are going but because they’re not my really close friends I started to panic. So I messaged them and said I might not be able to go. But then after a few days I started thinking about it and I thought to myself, I always do this. I always bail on plans I make. But I’m never going to get better and beat my anxiety if I continue to do it. I have to actually try and face my fears. So I messaged them again and said never mind, I can go now. And I feel really good about myself. I’m still a little bit nervous and the odd thought about how they don’t like me and they’re going to ignore me pops up, but I just keep pushing it down and telling myself that it will be okay and it will be fun.

So yeah. I’m pretty happy with myself at the moment. I’ve been planning on doing a post talking about all the affects that anxiety has on me and my life but I’m kind of struggling to write it because it feels very personal and it really dives head first into my psychological wellbeing. To be honest it’s kind of scary. But I really want to just get it done and post it because I do really think it could help some people who suffer from anxiety to understand their brains better and identify all the things that trigger anxiety. So that post should be up soon.

Lastly, I just want to say that I want all of you to do something like I did. Face your fears, even if it’s only something small like doing something independently or resisting urges that you get to do something. It makes you feel really good about yourself to take a stand against a mental illness or an addiction or whatever problems you have in your life, and that’s all some people need to lift them up. Just one moment where they do something good for themselves and get to feel in control again.

Take a step forward, be brave, and don’t look back.

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Numb and Empty

I don’t know what it is or why I feel this way but recently I’ve just been feeling really…off. And by recently I mean literally the last few days. I just feel so done and over everything. It’s like I don’t care anymore and all I want to do is just lie in bed and think about nothing. My favourite part of the day is getting to lie down in bed and fantasise about a life that I’ll never have and I’m starting to realise that it’s probably not very good for me. I still want to hang out with friends and everything and sometimes I love life and I’m thinking that I would never swap my life for anyone else’s but then suddenly it’s like a switch is flipped in my brain and I’m plunged into this endless wormhole of darkness. And it’s not like I feel angry or anything I just feel…nothing. It’s like I’m completely numb. I’ll be walking in the hallways at school, looking into the darkness of my locker and I’ll just be somewhere off in my mind where all I can see is a blank sheet of paper. And then Ash will come up to me and say something and that switch just turns itself off again and I’m back to normal. I don’t understand what is going on with my brain right now but I’m kind of sick of it and I just want it to stop. It’s not a nice feeling to feel like a completely empty shell of a human being but there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s like my mind literally has a mind of its own.

I’m probably just going crazy.

“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 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.

 

Explaining My Breakdown and Getting Some Help

I’m sorry about the other day guys. I was just having a really shit night and I don’t think I was fully THERE if you know what I mean. I was kind of hallucinating and I felt really out of it. I don’t even remember half the things I wrote. And I don’t have much of a desire to go back and read it. I don’t even know what caused all this. I was so happy and everything was fine but then I got from school and I felt so depressed and I was craving self harm so bad. I didn’t want to give in. I really didn’t want to do it again because I’ve been clean for months and I didn’t want to throw away all that progress. But I did and now I’ve got fresh cuts on my body and I feel so numb and I’m faking a smile and I don’t even care anymore. No one cares. But the worst thing is that I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed self harming which is so bad but I did. I missed it. But it also sucks. But I still want more. Ugh I hate this it’s like my mind is split in two and they’re both yelling at each other and they won’t slow down to just let me think for a minute. I’m zoning out like every 5 minutes and literally there’s nothing wrong with my life right now. I have parents who love me and a big healthy family and I have friends and a house and food and so many things that I don’t even need but yet my brain is still telling me “your life sucks. Your life sucks. Be sad. Be sad. Hate yourself. Hate yourself.” Maybe I have a chemical imbalance in my brain I don’t know but I just want it to go away. 

I felt so numb and tired and I seriously could barely lift my fingers, due to the many many typos in that post. I’m usually so pristine with my posts and I hate typos and stuff but I don’t know I just lost all interest when writing that one. 
I’m finishing this off a few days later and I’m the period of time between them, something big has happened. 

It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time but never had the nerves to. And that is…talking to someone. Literally. That’s it. But it’s not just that. I found this the most daunting thing in the entire world and I was so nervous about it I actually thought I was going to vomit. So the night after I wrote that thing where I was a bit crazy, I was being really quiet in the car on the way home from school and I think my mum noticed and knew that something was wrong. She asked me how school was and what I did. I replied with ‘it was fine’ and that was it. 

Mum: how are you?

Me: fine

*pause*

Mum: are you alright? Is everything okay at school

Me: yes

*another pause*

Mum: are you sure?

*no reply*

*mum takes my hand*

Mum: talk to me. What’s going on?

*no reply*

Mum: Jags?

*no reply*
I didn’t reply for so long because I was trying to get the words out of my mouth but I physically couldn’t. They were stuck inside of me and I couldn’t get them out. And then I started to cry. 
Mum: don’t cry, just tell me what’s wrong

Me: in school we’re learning about mental health

Mum: okay

Me: and we were talking about some of the symptoms and stuff

Mum: mhm

Me: and it’s like…some of the stuff…I’m like…that’s me
And then I started fully bawling. And I expected her to be shocked or overly sympathetic or instantly worried but she wasn’t. She just said…
Mum: okay. In what way?

Me: like anxiety and depression stuff
And so the conversation went on. We talked for another half an hour while driving home and she was so good with everything. She just asked me questions and gave me my own time to answer. She didn’t shove answers in my mouth or tell yes or no or that’s wrong or you’re over reacting. She just listened and tried to help. And it’s made me love her even more. 

She told me we can look into finding a counsellor or something at my school who I can talk to when I need to which I’m so looking forward to. But my favourite thing about the whole night was the last thing she said about the topic:

“Let’s make you happy again” and kissed my hand. 

I don’t know why but it made me feel safe. Like I could rely on her and let her make all the really tough decisions. And now I’m not carrying around this dead weight of a secret that has been making me feel like absolute shit for the last 2 years. I feel so free and like I can tell her anything now. 

If only I’d known how well my family would take it earlier then maybe this whole mental health thing wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. But you know. That’s the way things go. 

If you’re out there struggling with mental health I urge you to speak up because it made me feel so much better and I already feel like my mental state is improving because of it. You don’t have to straight away tell your parents either. Talk to a friend you trust or a sibling or a teacher or go online and find a place to talk about your feelings. 

And remember, you can get through it. Anyone can. You just have to hold on and wait for the storm to pass. 

I love you all. Stay safe and happy and remember I’m always here. Always.