At first, I feel hesitant to write about the inner most dark thoughts that reside in my soul. I figured it would jeopardize a lot of things like my professional life, my social life – pretty much the “image” that I “want” perceived of me. But if writing is my only source of healing, why hold back? I don’t want to be looked down upon as the one who talks and talks and talks about depression to the ones that actually care to hear it.. maybe I can shed light to someone who reads this only to help themselves in their own life situation. Fear holds a lot of people back and being vulnerable and honest is a fear that I think almost everyone can relate to. I just hate the fact that I’m afraid to share some thoughts in fear of being felt sorry for. I don’t want anyone to feel sad or sorry for me. And if you feel that way, it will only make me feel worse. Like point proven. At the end of the day, only I know I can help myself.
I often feel such a mixture of emotions that can’t be controlled. It confuses me half the time and my brain hurts. One day I’m on top of the world and happy. The next I feel so low, I can’t find motivation to do anything. I’m literally debilitated and can’t get myself to get up out of bed or put some food in my stomach. I know it’s all in my head, but my head can be the death of me..
It’s crazy to know and understand how “blessed” you are and to know how many people love you and still feel so low about yourself. Maybe it’s not about how many people love you or who loves you, but what really matters is how much you love yourself. Some days, I’m so loving towards myself and proud of how far I’ve come. Other days, I absolutely loathe myself and can’t get myself to “move on” the way “normal” people do.
The layers I have go far beyond the “positive” image you may have captivated from the outside. I’ve tried to show a lot of “positivity” because I’ve come from such a dark place. In fact, a lot of those “dark” feelings arise time and time again and sometimes it’s hard to re-gain control.
Being an empath doesn’t always help either because I can get so emotionally invested in my surroundings and people I care about that I forget to take care of myself. It pains me to see others hurt and yet, I’m hurting deep down, but I put others first. They always say, put yourself first, but it’s a lot harder to do. Sure, I try to stay active and try to be health conscious, but what about my mental health? What have I been doing to make sure that’s healthy?
Well, I’ve been reading a lot of self-help books and it always gives me great perspective. I pray to God daily. I turn to close friends and family when I need to vent. How much is anything I do actually effective?
The layers go even deeper and the only reason why I am alive is because I’m not strong enough to take my own life. And this goes even deeper because I love those around me so much that I can’t bare to imagine their pain if I do anything to myself. Rewind to the above paragraph stating, that I tend to put others before me. But sometimes I’m beyond myself. I just want to get out of my own head and realize that it’s not as serious as I’m making it.
Sure, I have a lot “going” for me, but who’s even the judge of that? What good are the physical things, the visual things – if the inside is broken?
What is the cause? What is the cause of my anxiety and depression?
What do I fear? What am I afraid of?
I was asked these things and I can’t even exactly answer. Maybe it’s the fear of not meeting expectations. The expectations are from whom? None other than myself? Why do I place these expectations on myself? I’m SO caught up in my head that I place false expectations. But that’s a lie! I’m expected to excel in my life. I’m expected to show up in my professional life. I’m expected to work my butt off. I’m expected a lot of things, but yet what do I get out of it? Struggle. I’m not living my life to its full potential because I’m held back by trying to survive by societal’s expectations.
I’m not entirely happy. And I’ve never been one to try and “fake the funk.”
The layers peel and peel, but when is enough? When do I get to free myself? When do I get to just do what I want? Am I enough? What is love? What is love when you feel alone in such a busy world?
I don’t think I’ve ever written something so deep for the public to read.
My brain hurts and I’m not asking for help. I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m seeking answers that only I can find within myself. I fear of being judged, but what do your judgments of me matter when I’m no longer alive?
Fear doesn’t hold me back anymore because I’m able to share these thoughts with you.
I hope that whatever it is you are going through that you’re able to persevere and gain the strength that maybe I’m unable to find for myself right now.
My brain hurts and I don’t want help. In fact, I’d like to be left alone.