Losing Myself

what-is-depressionDriving home the other day, I looked out at the river I drive along and it looked peaceful. So peaceful that I wanted to go in and submerge myself without plans to come up.

It was a wake up call for me. I’ve not been paying attention to myself lately and missing the signs. Urges, thoughts, feelings, those things you are suppose to take note of about yourself to make sure you are mentally healthy, I’ve ignored them and now depression has taken hold of me and pulled me back down to a place I hoped to not see again. I’m within the darkness of my mind, depressions shadows and lifelessness swallowing me whole once again.

It’s funny the things you can ignore in the need to feel “normal” to pretend this group of ugly illnesses do not exist. The forgetfulness increasing when normally remembering everything. The order of things suddenly becoming the most important thing, along with keeping a routine the exact same every day with no deviations, otherwise everything feels off. Feeling more of an outsider and unwanted. Wondering if you were no longer around if people would miss you or even notice. Always wanting to sleep and feeling utterly exhausted. Interest in anything has become obsolete, and forcing yourself to go anywhere or do anything is the only way things will happen. Anxiety choking you, fear and panic drowning you.

The world has become black, covered in shadows, with no way out. My thoughts have turned a bit morbid, darker, bleak, suicidal. Whether or awake or asleep, the world is black. When looking at my palette for the day, all I find is misery and hopelessness to paint with, having washed the joy down the sink. That little pill that makes me feel alive, has stopped producing it’s magic.

Suicidal thoughts and inclinations have started coming at an alarming rate, along with the urges to harm myself. The urges were at such a steady increase I needed to do something. I booked an appointment with my tattoo artist, and had some work done. I sport a reminder on my forearm, that I am the author of my life. I make the choice whether I live or die. I need that reminder quite often right now. I need to talk myself away from hurting myself, away from ending things.

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These thoughts and feelings of being out of control of myself and my life, worthlessness, constant exhaustion, blackness, forgetfulness, failure, they need to stop.

I called the psychiatric hospital and clinic as soon as I became to come out of the fog enough to notice what has been going on. I’m in a depressive episode, and not just a small one. I need help.

I thought I was strong and able to overcome this. I’m not. I’m weak. I’m failing. I cannot do this. I’m fighting. I’m fighting against myself and I’m losing. wylMentalHealth

I’m back in therapy now. Only had the evaluation and the first session, but it’s a start. I see the doctor on the 14th about my medication(s) to start having that adjusted.

My first official session was about goals. We created long term and short term goals. My goals are set to help myself, not anyone else, but me. I am to work on and focus on me. This is me time. That’s going to take getting use to. I don’t know how to focus on me. That has always seemed selfish to me, however I’m told that if I want to get better, some things need to be about me, so these goals will help that. I want to gain interest back in art, and have my own shop set up to sell my work. Also, I want to attend a conference for blogging and writing, finally, I want to have self esteem to have better relationships, stable relationships. In order to achieve these, I am going to start with getting my art and crafts area set up. I have been told I need to write and publish an article every week. As for self esteem, well I need to have one positive mantra a week, whether it be something I thought of, or found on the interwebs.

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Going to try to do this. I have no ambition right now. It’s lacking like the Sahara lacks water and vegetation. I am empty. I have a tough fight ahead of me. I hope I’m up for this. I hope I can make it. I hope I don’t give up and give in. I have demons inside of me, and they are trying to escape. How can I let them out and not let them win?

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Golden Tarnished Apples

Like Golden Apples in Silver Settings so is a Word Spoken at the Right Time.  – Proverbs 25:11tarished

I remember hearing and reading that bible quote when I was little, but never really thinking twice about it. Until now that is. Never has became frequently lately.

As a child I lived in my own world, mine and my brother’s that we invented and shared. I didn’t feel lonely, I didn’t feel depressed, I didn’t need to know that people realized I existed. I had my brother after all, and we kept each other company. Being a year apart we did most things together and entertained each other. It was a funny competition like thing we had where we had to prove that what the other was doing, we could to. We looked out for each other, and while we picked on each other, no one was allowed to mess with the other. I knew I wasn’t the only person alive, I had my brother. He accepted that I was weird and goofy usually, and a little off from others, not as outspoken.

We were like this

We were like this

Then life happened and we grew more apart, went our separate ways. He had his plethora of friends, I had my very few amount. He got married, has a kid, his own family. I was raped, became pregnant, lost a child, became introverted, tried suicide, hurt myself. We went different routes as life normally does. I lost that constant companion, that person that affirmed that I wasn’t alone, that things was ok, the one person I told my troubles to. I lost my connection to people, that little bit that tied me to life.

He provided words to me. Words that reaffirmed that I was alive and not alone. Words of encouragement. The silly teasing that goes on between brother and sister. Standing against our sister together, her verbal abuse.

Then slowly the shadows consumed me, the darkness of my mind being all that I saw, misery and despair all I heard, nothing being what I felt, I was nothing.

I had to learn to survive on my own, and it was a beautiful disaster.

I bottled everything inside of me. I stayed in my shadows. I shared nothing, and pretended I was invisible. It must have worked because no one talked to me. No one asked how I was doing. No one cared. I started to drink whenever I could. I was hurting myself in multiple ways. No one seemed to think twice about it. No one questioned it. There were no words. Silence, if anything, pushed me further away from life.

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I lived in a world of silence, darkness, emptiness; a vacuum. My life was nothing.

Then something happened. A friend I didn’t think was there anymore spoke to me. He asked me to get help. Someone noticed, and then spoke. It stuck with me. I did not act upon it right away. I had no light, no way to escape, but I would find it, because of those words, that request asking me to get help.

Eventually I got that help, saw a psychiatrist, actually a legion of them, as apparently I was a bit more twisted, broke, and lost than originally thought to be. My first psychiatrist sent me to group therapy when she saw some of my wounds and scars. My group wasn’t just about being in a group with others that were disturbed and wanted to find ways to end things, it was groups of psychiatrists and therapists. Eventually I learned ways to manage, to deal, to not hide in the shadowy darkness all of the time, though as those that suffer from mental illnesses know, there are relapses, ups and downs, as this roller coaster never ends that our brains are on. I still have issues. I still battle, still feel alone, helpless, and at times, I want to end it all. Other times I’m in an okay place where I can manage.

In those helpless times, it seems that I have someone watching out for me. When I need it the most, I will get a text, an IM, a Snapchat, or an email, some form of communication just asking how I am, or saying hi. I have a lifeline, a tether to the world reaching out to me. Something to connect me back to people. I didn’t ask, I didn’t hope for it, it was just there when I needed it. A treasure.

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I try to hide everything and hold it in. It’s who I am, so when that small word, or something comes across to show that someone is thinking about me, it brings a little more of me to the picture. I start to fill in. I’m not invisible. I don’t have my brother the way I did before, and it still is the hardest thing to want to bring these types of things up to him, but I’m learning that there are others out there that lend those words and thoughts, those lights and lifelines and tethers I desperately need at times.

II try to be this tether to others. I love sitting down at a computer and writing. I open up friends list and see who is on and send messages out saying hi. I go through my contacts in my phone and send a good morning, how are you to people. I’ve had people do that to me when I’m at my lowest, or needing a word spoken, I hope I can do the same to others. I hope to provide golden apples, albeit a bit tarnished. I apologize for that.

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