This Is Depressing - Blog Posts
My life summed up in one meme.
"How can I ignore depression when it comes to hugs me when no one else did?"
~ Me, at midnight, while taking a shower.
"If you had a friend who had no interest in writing, and they try to write and write better than you, a masterpiece. What would you do? If you had read and written and worked insanely hard and they are just so naturally talented that they are able to produce something so incredible. What would you do? Would you accept the difference between heaven and earth, a la prodigy and benchplayer? Would you retreat to the belief it is just luck or chance, that there are no masterpieces argument, or would deny it completely and ignore the difference and trudge onwards"
~YouTube, don't remember which video sorry. Quote is changed from orginal.
Found the diagnosis to my problems...
Autophobia
Morbid fear of solitude, or of being left alone, abandoned or ignored.
P.S.: Solitude is often good but the rest are just dreadful.
Suicide
As a child I really loved the idea of suicide and kind of glorified it in my mind. It seemed perfect in all ways, you don't have to suffer in old age, you don't have to suffer from the pain of any terminal illness. It was just like if things are not going well you can end things whenever you want. I always liked the fact that suicide gives you the right to end your life as per your wish and instead of someone or something having the ability to end you.
But now a lot of time has passed, I am an adult and very thankful that I found a reason to not do something so 'awesome' as suicide. Because now I am mature and has realised that the notion behind my glorifying suicide had no base. I have realised that Yes when we try to hang ourselves we are the ones to remove that stool from under our feet but the rope we use was given to us by someone else. In simple words we want to end our lives but only because of others and how they treat us, which is obviously wrong. One more thing I realised growing up is that like we got hundred reasons to procrastinate our work, we also got hundred reasons to procastinate the idea of suicide. And for me just a single one was sufficient to keep me alive and also to teach me how to love life.
Maybe you need more than one reason to keep up living but I know you have those reasons, so just find them and cling to it till you start loving yourself and the surrounding. If I can move on everyone can and you know if I would have opted for suicide back when I was a kid, maybe I would have never been able to face all those failures and then enjoyed overcoming them. Challenges don't make your life miserable but they make your life unique. Just like I love to wear a unique dress to a party, I also love having my set of failures and challenges which make my life unique.
Finally, when you feel like ending your life just cling to the 'some' reasons around you to live till the time you start loving your life. Because suicide is stupid and everyone definitely realises that one day.
The wish to be alone is so wierd, you try to forget so many people and end up remembering so many things at once.
Again
HEY PLEASE READ !!
if you guys AT ALL enjoy using the internet whether it's for news, entertainment, or communication purposes there is a bill floating around right now that has a good possibility of being passed that will influence the way we ALL use the internet. this bill is called KOSA and it presents itself as "kids online safety act" but in reality it is and will try to sensor SO much important information out there about LGBTQ+, POC communities, feminism and women's rights, and so much more. the bill targets mainly people under 17 but this bill will affect adults too. your favorite social media and websites will become highly cleansed from anything the government deems as "dangerous" to children online. one of the ways they are trying to ensure kids aren't accessing content that is "dangerous" enforces EVERYONE to upload private information or a photo of your ID to access social media apps and websites. IF YOU CARE AT ALL ABOUT PROTECTING FREE SPEACH ON THE INTERNET AND THE WAY WE USE IT TO COMMUNICATE PLEASE HELP ENSURE THAT THIS BILL DOES NOT PASS.
CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES AND SENATORS TO SHOE THAT YOU DO NOT SUPPORT THE KOSA BILL.
PLEASE REBLOG AND SHARE !!!!
HERE IS A FREE PETITION YOU CAN SIGN TO HELP:
“Do what you can, but nothing will take your pain away when you realize you're not truly loved by anyone.”
📜🖋🍂
Once upon a time there was a girl,
She didn't like who she was.
She didn't like the way she looked,
She didn't like the way she behaved,
She didn't like the way she thought.
She was always imperfect for her.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who always wanted to be someone else and would have given anything to make this happen,
Because in her skin she felt invisible, unappreciated, unloved.
This may have changed if she had accepted the love of others justly,
But she couldn't,
It was hard for her because she didn't love herself,
And the love from others seemed unfair to her to have.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who only had one friend.
She felt at home when she was with her,
But they haven't seen each other in months,
And remote communication was hard to maintain.
When she was alone it was a torment.
At that moment all thoughts rushed creating unreal worries but he could not escape:
"What if you did the wrong thing?"
"You're not good enough."
"The people you passed by earlier started laughing ... they were laughing at you."
"You look horrible!"
All this was like a rising water.
She felt like she was drowning.
Needing to breathe, her subconscious told her to take a deep breath, a thought she struggled with because you couldn't breathe underwater.
She felt trapped, her own prisoner, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who forgot how to love,
She forgot the feeling of being in love.
She forgot how to love love.
She was afraid to fall in love,
She was afraid to love.
That's why she kept the world at bay and moved away from everyone.
She felt like she was building a wall between herself and the others.
She didn't feel sad, but she wasn't happy either.
All she felt was security.
She wished she could feel those butterflies in her stomach,
But at the same time, she was terrified of the idea.
She wished she could feel the warmth of someone next to her,
But at the same time she liked the coolness in which she found himself.
She was lost in a maze of her emotions and didn't want to shoot anyone with her,
That's why she drove everyone away.
For her, love was like a new universe, and no matter how much she wanted to explore it, she was too afraid.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Which wherever she was she did not feel at home.
She wanted to go home,
But she didn't feel at home at home either.
Wherever she was, she felt like a stranger,
A tourist in a space that does not deserve to be, surrounded by critical looks that judged her every move.
She wanted a place for her, but she couldn't find it;
She wanted to feel safe, but she didn't feel;
She wanted a house, but she didn't have one.
The only place that was closest to "home" was the place he saw only in his imagination,
Where she felt safe,
Where she was the person she always wanted to be.
But it hurt.
The feeling she had when she returned to reality hurt;
Sadness, anger, disappointment,
It all overwhelmed her and made her feel like she was drowning again,
Until she took it from the beginning again, imagining.
It was like a drug.
The most beautiful and painful drug the girl could not part with no matter how hard she tried.
And she knows that because she tried,
But she couldn't.
She was always pulled back by the awful feeling of peace, tranquility, security ... at home.
Once upon a time there was a girl,
Who needed help ...
But he didn't know who to ask.
Ok, so, I am sorry if my english is bad. It's my second language, but anyway here is the version written in my language:
A fost odată o fată,
Ei nu îi plăcea cine era.
Nu îi placea cum arăta, nu îi plăcea cum se comporta, nu îi plăcea cum gândea.
Pentru ea a fost mereu imperfectă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care mereu și-a dorit să fie altcineva și ar fi dat orice pentru ca acest lucru să se fi întâmplat,
Pentru că în pielea ei se simțea invizibilă, neapreciată, neiubită.
Acest lucru poate s-ar fi schimbat dacă ar fi acceptat iubea celorlalți din just,
Dar nu putea,
Îi era greu deoarece nu se iubea pe ea insăşi,
Iar dragostea din partea celorlalți I se părea nedrept pentru a o avea.
A fost odată o fată,
Care avea doar o prietenă.
Se simțea acasă când era cu ea,
Dar nu s-au mai văzut de luni întregi,
Iar comunicarea de la distanță era un lucru greu de menținut.
Când era singură era un chin.
În acel moment toate gândurile năvăleau creând griji ireale dar de care nu putea scăpa:
"Dacă ai făcut acel lucru greşit?"
"Nu eşti suficient de bună."
"Persoanele pe lângă care ai trecut mai devreme au început să râdă...râdeau de tine."
"Arăți oribil!"
Toate acestea erau ca o apă în continuă creșterea.
Simțea că se îneacă.
Având nevoie să respire subconştientul ei îi spunea să tragă o gură de aer, gând cu care se lupta deoarece nu poți respira sub apă.
Se simțea blocată, propria prizonieră și nu putea face nimic în legătură cu asta.
A fost odată o fată,
Care a uitat cum se iubeşte,
A uitat sentimentul de a fi indrăgostit.
A uitat cum să iubească iubirea.
Îi era frică a se indrăgosti,
Îi era frică a iubi.
De aceea ținea lumea la distanță și se indepărta de toți.
Simțea ca și cum construia un zid între ea și ceilalți.
Nu se simțea tristă dar nu era nici fericită.
Tot ce simțea era siguranță.
Ea și-ar fi dorit să simtă acei fluturi în stomac,
Dar în același timp era inspăimântată de idee.
Și-ar fi dorit să simtă căldura cuiva lângă ea,
Dar în același timp îi plăcea răcoarea în care se afla.
Era pierdută într-un labirint al emotiilor ei și nu dorea să tragă pe nimeni alături de ea,
De aceea îndeparta pe toată lumea.
Pentru ea iubirea era ca un univers nou și oricât de mult și-ar fi dorit să îl exploreze îi era mult prea teamă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care oriunde se afla nu se simțea acasă.
Dorea să meargă acasă,
Dar nici acasă nu se mai simțea acasă.
În orice loc în care se afla se simțea străină,
Un turist pe un spațiu care nu I se cuvine înconjurat de priviri critice care îi judecau fiecare mişcare.
Își dorea un loc al ei, dar nu îl putea găsi;
Dorea să se simtă în siguranță, dar nu se simțea;
Ar fi vrut o casă, dar nu o avea.
Singurul loc care era cel mai apropiat de "acasă" era locul pe care îl vedea doar în imaginația sa,
Acolo unde se simțea în siguranță,
Acolo unde era persoana care și-ar fi dorit din totdeauna să fie.
Dar durea.
Durea sentimentul pe care îl avea atunci când se întorcea la realitate;
Tristețea, furia, dezamăgirea,
Toate o copleşeau și o făceau din nou să se simtă ca și cum s-ar îneca,
Până când o lua iar de la capăt, imaginându-şi.
Era ca un drog.
Cel mai frumos și dureros drog de care fata nu se putea despărții oricât ar fi încercat.
Și ea știe asta pentru că a încercat,
Dar nu a putut.
Era mereu trasă înapoi de îngrozitorul de frumos sentiment de pace, linişte, siguranță...acasă.
A fost odată o fată,
Care avea nevoie de ajutor...
Dar nu știa cui să il ceară.
It came in bouts.
Terrible things happened when I was around five. My father had been abusing my mother in front of me. Verbally, physically, emotionally, financially, you name it he did it. That’s right around the time your memories start by the way. That was probably the first time I actually wanted to die. I didn’t understand it, but I’d play dead in my bedroom, hoping that if I laid there hard enough it would just… happen. Thought that I wouldn’t be missed. Who was gonna pay attention to a corpse when there was a screaming match outside your door, right? My parents divorced soon after, but my father still wasn’t done with causing damage, so he sabotaged my mother’s credit score. It’s hard to be happy kid when your mother is crawling into your bed at night as a child, not in fear of her own life, but later learning she was in fear for yours. And then when you finally see her no longer in fear for your lives you then see her bone tired and pushing herself to the limit to make rent and feed two growing kids, and get a college degree your father kept her from getting, all while working three jobs? Shit was rough. Ate a lot of tv dinners to get by for a while. Sometimes the toilet paper was more appetizing and cheaper at the time, so I would sometimes eat that like a little creature because it made the hunger stop for a little while.
When I was six I was sexually abused by a family member she trusted to watch us while at work.
I was abused again around that same age by my father’s girlfriend’s son, who was a large bit older than me, though it wasn’t as direct.
My dad would physically and verbally abuse me when I was over at his house for the weekends. He’d let his girlfriends do it too if, because they would try to be my “new mommy” and it wouldn’t work because their vibes were horrendous and they always assumed it was because they were taking away my dad’s attention from me, when he didn’t even give it to me in the first place if it wasn’t in his interests or to save face. Sometimes there were no snacks because he would always date almond moms who couldn’t stand us ‘free-grazing’. So sometimes I just went hungry, even when I was in a sport.
Things didn’t start getting better till I was around eight or nine. And not by much. I got diagnosed with ADHD, but my mental health issues got so much worse around puberty. I didn’t know how to make friends because I was so reclused into myself by that point. I kind of just did my own thing. Nobody really seemed to want to keep me around anyways, and I really tried.
Things were okay for awhile when I was ten and eleven.
When I was twelve my mental shit came to a head. I found a group of friends, but I had to annoy them in order to stick around. I was determined then. They ended up ditching me when I was way older anyways so that blew. I got braces. Started therapy. There were a lot of tears and old wounds reopened. At one point I was homeless and couch surfing because my dad refused to forfeit visitation rights even though he was evicted from his condo. That was a trip. Sometimes I would have to have a sleep over with a friend just to get a shower because he wouldn’t pay utilities. Sometimes when he was single there was nothing in the house to eat, and we would be stuck with nothing until he came home from work. Sometimes he would kick us out and lock us out of the house in the middle of the day during the Florida summers to make us “get off our lazy asses.”
Things didn’t start looking up really for my emotional state till I was about 14.
Then I turned 16 and one of my family members died. Was in a car accident while driving my first vehicle (wasn’t at fault. But damn. It was scary). After that things were better, but to be honest? They’re still kinda shit.
I’m 21 now.
So your answer?
Worst years of my life:
5yrs old - 9 yrs old
12 yrs old - 14 yrs old
16yrs old - 18yrs old
…and now I’m doing better. Not completely OK. Not even good really. but better than I can really remember being in a long ass while.
Nowadays I’m just stressed with school and work all the time. Not really super happy or fulfilled yet either, but I’m assuming that’s pretty normal for my generation.
How old were you at the lowest point in your life? Reblog this and put it in the tags, plus your current age maybe. I'm trying to see something.
I usually don’t post anything political for the sake of my mental health and whoever sees my blog, but this. The Neil Gaiman situation? This makes me sick. I’m feel like I’m going to throw up. I should have guessed honestly, few good works come from good people. Might delete this later but needed to rant because I am utterly disgusted. At least I have friends nowadays and I just ate a cookie and I’m feeling better