Tuesday, 8 September 2015

DAY 80

This is probably the most difficult post I’ll ever have to write, hopefully.

I’m writing this now because I don’t think I’ll have the strength to later and my motivation is dwindling away. I’ve lost all hope of this just being a bad day, it seems very much like a bad life.

I’m not okay. Everything comes back to this and I just don’t feel okay. Sometimes I feel like I’ve worked it out and I figure out how to keep happy and positive, then I wake up and all the work I did is gone. I’ve not felt like this for a few months, I thought my medication levelled me out but medication can’t treat my life and the bad memories I have. All it takes is one bad dream and suddenly my reality is broken.

I can’t cope with the thoughts of my past, so much that I can’t cope with the company of myself. All these bad memories come and ruin me so much that I can’t even get out of my bed. It’s my personal goal to get through the day without crying. I have dreams about these memories, sometimes they’re nightmares and sometimes they’re positive – then I wake up, and sometimes waking up and knowing the situation never happened is the scariest part. My memories are owned by other people, they are the people that have an effect on my situation and they’ll never regard me positively – so why should I regard myself in that manner? It feels like I died years ago but I’m living as this ghost that’s been sent to watch people dancing on my own grave. If I can’t cope after all these years, I’ll never cope. I’m only 20 and I can’t live with the misery I have here, how can I live with it when I’m older? Does every year of my life have to be so painful?

And I’m both unlucky and lucky to have a mood disorder. Unlucky because one day I wake up and my world is ruined, lucky because not every single day of my life is awful – some days are absolutely phenomenal, so fantastic I singlehandedly ruin everything around me.

Why don’t I talk to people? The only people that would be worthwhile talking to are the people who actually have an effect on these situations I experienced, but in that regard I am not their problem. I am not my exes problem, I can imagine my death and hear the words come out of his own mouth silky smooth that I’m ‘Not his problem’. Fuck, I can hear his laugh so crystal clear that it makes my whole body sick. I think back to the proclamations of love, that only I meant, before it went sour - and I can hear it so precisely – I can feel the vibration of his throat. I left an unhappy life and all I did was make everyone else happier, and give myself a lifetime of guilt.

By opening up about these chilling experiences, I know for a fact people are whispering and giggling to each other about how pathetic it is that I come back to the same thing over and over again because people moved on. I will never move on, I’ve got the mental illness as a badge for it. I try so hard to change who I am but I can’t change the things in my mind. I wouldn’t commit suicide because I know the reward it has for people, I just want a really bad head injury. I just want to forget it all. I want to spend the rest of my life drunk so I can’t remember. I don’t want my sanity because it always comes back to these disgusting thoughts. In an ideal world, I would talk to the people involved have a hug then move on. However, positivity is a dirty word in this world and even if you’re on board for making amends you usually find other people are bitter and don’t want to concern themselves with what isn’t ‘their problem’.

I’m done, I’m out. I can’t cope. Drama Queen is going back to bed.
You might not get a blog post tomorrow, I’ll try but no promises.


Sorry if this made your situation worse or if it was attention seeking or anything, but this is my blog and every day is my take.