Tag Archives: Unhappy

I’m Plagued by Thoughts

21 Jan

Dear Diary,

I’m at my most dangerous when I begin to think and I’ve been doing just that over the past couple of days. It’s strange how I can avoid listening to my thoughts and feelings because I have gotten into a habit of waking up each morning and wanting to cry. Depression has the power to strip your personality down to the bone; it knocks your confidence more roughly than a Tsunami and leaves you with little more than a shadow of your former self. Only now with the help of counselling am I beginning to piece together my thoughts and learning to stand my ground when a problem arises. It’s all too easy to curl up in my bed, tug the covers over my head and hide from the world when I feel like I’m falling apart, but I want to grow as a person and I above all else I have to succeed.

Everything I have ever touched has fallen apart whether it was my family unit, hopes of an education or my mental health. I blame myself continuously for everything that has ever happened because isn’t it my fault I’m depressed? I’ve heard so many clichéd responses to a depressed person, I’m sure I could write a book on it. But common sense usually prevails and I remind myself Depression is a treatable mental illness, I’m seeking help at long last and I don’t wish to be smothered by this black cloud for the rest of my life.

It’s far too simple to allow myself to be labelled as the “Depressed Girl” until the end of my days and if I did that, what would I achieve? And furthermore, wouldn’t I have wasted my life fluctuating between being miserable and downright drowning in my own tears?

Sometimes I can’t help but think it would be easier that way. If I remained depressed and feeling like an outsider each time I stepped out of my front door, I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain and stir up memories I don’t want to deal with. When I hit the age of eleven I was already a master at bottling up my own misery, sealing said bottle and hiding it under my bed. Before I knew it I was sleeping on a mountain of bottled tears and the tip of my nose was greeting the clouds.

Refusing to be drawn on my feelings worked for me at the time and I stuck with that very way of life until the age of seventeen when I became absolutely terrified of my own thoughts. When I look back now it’s obvious to me I became severely depressed by the time I reached eighteen. I was suicidal and wanting nothing more than to leave full stop. I self harmed, I cried myself to sleep, at times I even felt like I was losing my mind because I was in so much pain, but I’m still here now and whenever you hear the phrase “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” take heed, because it’s true.

When I’m faced with another wave of depression now, I see the oncoming signs and I know when to hunker down. I avoid getting into situations that will drag me down further, I cry when I need to shed tears because bottling things up is dangerous and I type my innermost feelings out and post them here. There are many reasons why I do the latter, but the most important aspect is this: I would never want anybody to feel as alone as I once did.

Overall and with almost eight years of depression behind me I know I’m okay right now. I’ve been better and I’ve certainly been worse, but feeling “okay” gives me a foundation to work from and with the correct tools, I will construct a life around me before the year is out.

– Raindrops

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‘Til the Pain is So Big You Feel Nothing At All

14 Nov

Dear Diary,

It didn’t work. Even with the heating on sleep still escaped me until late and as a result I was like a walking zombie this morning. Sadly I had to go out today, I wandered out the house without a coat on and by the time I reached the bottom of the road I was cold. Part of me welcomed the chill, the weather had quite a bite and I felt something. The numbness I’ve been drowning in these past few weeks was somewhat startled by the crisp air and I felt something. A tiny thought of ‘What am I doing?’ flittered through my mind before I pushed it away in favour of the numbness. It makes me feel safe, it’s like a comfort blanket and I don’t know what to do without it anymore. I can’t cope with my thoughts, pain and the overwhelming urge to make a life for myself, so I stay as detatched as possible. It’s better this way because I don’t get hurt.

I  had to go to the Jobcentre this morning and I despise the place. Nobody understands how much I want a job, one that will lift my spirits and stop me from feeling like such a failure. I have interviews, I always do, but I’m crushed each time I don’t get the job. What’s the matter with me? And why can’t I be like everybody else?

Sometimes it feels like everybody has a life but me. I’ve started to keep away from facebook because all I see are people with lives, jobs, houses, boyfriends, husbands, girlfriends, children… They have it all. I carry so much unhappiness inside me and this blog, that’s what I have to show for my life.

Today after I left the Jobcentre I was miserable. Putting my earphones in, I skipped every song on my iPod searching for something that matched my mood and settled on John Lennon’s Working Class Hero. It was when the song started to play and I waited to cross the road that a hearse stopped right in front of me. Gazing through the glass at the resting coffin my mind began to run away from me and I knew right then there was a fine line between life and death. There have been times when my toes have crept over the blurred line, but I always fought to drag myself back to a place where I could sit and collect my thoughts until I was brave enough to stand on my own two feet again.

It’s ironic the sight of a coffin shifts my mood from quiet despair to hope. There will be a glimmer of hope in the sky tonight, a little twinkle of a star when the moon is out and it has my name on it. I have put all my energy into hoping my life will improve and I pray it’s not misplaced because I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired, so exhausted of having to fight to be happy. But I’ll keep fighting because that’s all I have and I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I think back to the hearse as it drove away from me and there were flowers in the back, pale, pretty flowers depicting a fisherman and it makes me smile sadly. There will be another family mourning a loved one this Christmas and that always depresses me.

If I died, I wonder what my own family would litter my coffin with? Probably purple and black wreaths, vodka bottles made up of flowers and I’d like to think they’d each write a letter to me. I won’t be holding my breath though…

I’m still incredibly tired and I’ve been fighting the urge not to drink all day. There is this feeling deep down inside my gut and my god, I want to get a little drunk. Only a little so I can sleep tonight. I’m unsure whether that’s my mind trying to find an excuse for me to drink. I’ll try not to listen to the drunken devil on my shoulder and stay away from the bottle today. It will only complicate matters and I need to find another way to cope. I’m still hoping posting on here will lift my spirits a little or at least the weight off my shoulders.

I guess that’s all I have to say for the moment,

– Raindrops

Restless

14 Nov

Dear Diary,

It’s five to six in the morning and I’ve already been awake for a couple of hours. Why? I guess I just don’t know. There’s so much I can’t explain and I sometimes struggle to wade through my many thoughts on a daily basis.

I’m having one of those moments again. It’s times like this when I wake up far too early and it’s still dark outside. I feel like the silence is slowly eating away at my soul and sleep is escaping me like smoke billowing from an industrial sized chimney, coughing my depressive thoughts into the atmosphere.  If I lived in a country which exercised the death penalty, I would be the first woman to suffer such a fate for melting polar icecaps with my bleak, black thoughts.

In the song Pennyroyal Tea, Kurt Cobain uses the line, ‘I’m so tired I can’t sleep’ and that pretty much sums up how I feel right now. That and the numbness deep inside my soul is starting to wake. It’s being poisoned by sadness and the unhappiness is making my heart sink.

I can literally feel my mood dropping, sliding down a slippery slope and no matter what I tell myself, what I promise to do, I can’t seem to overthrow my feelings. My depression never takes my challenges seriously and the hurt expands inside me until the tears erupt from my eyes. But this is my life and I try my hardest to hang on while I promise myself one day I’ll be happy.

Well, I think I need to try and fall back to sleep. I’ve turned on the heating hoping the heavy warmth will lull me into unconsciousness. Do you think it will work? I’ll let you know if it does.

This is goodbye for now, thanks for giving me a place to collect and house my thoughts without bias.

– Raindrops