Monthly Archives: March 2019

A Swing

I feel a little odd posting this one, after that last post. I spent a dark evening and a dark next day. Pretty meh weekend overall. But felt good this morning! Mild bit of motivation, was hopefully I may be able to grasp on to that.

But now tonight, suddenly. Something happened, or maybe a series of somethings. And I just sat there, seething, looking at the clutter around me.

What the fuck.

I am fucking better than this.

Fuck you, roping me in on this bullshit. I AM FUCKING BETTER THAN THIS.

I can be fucking better than this.

I can fucking do it.

Fuck you if you don’t think so.

Fuck you for dragging me down into this.

Fuck you for making me think I deserved nothing better than to sit in this fucking stew.

Fuck that.

I AM FUCKING BETTER THAN THIS.

And I’m gonna fucking prove it.

Not Okay

I am not okay.

Where to begin. Everything is a complicated web of dizzying bullshit within my mind. I’m trying therapy and meds again. I thought I had been doing okay, doing better. Maybe I actually was for a while. I was trying so hard this time to be watchful for my people pleasing tendencies. For my desire to be better, be happier, to delude me into playing at being better despite how I feel on the inside. I thought I was watchful. I don’t know. Maybe.

Therapy has been circling to the one issue over the last month: my craving and needing of validation, of VISIBILITY to those around me and I am friends with, and my complete and utter inability to accept it when it appears. I deny it so hard, because it sounds so utterly pathetic and vain and narcissistic and INADEQUATE in the face of all the other problems and issues that other people struggle with. I hate it and I need it. But it doesn’t matter, it is what drives me and fails me and taunts me. It is me.

Today I brought it up of my own accord. It was something that had been nagging at me for weeks now, a group of people that are feeding me precious spoonfuls of what I want and need. It should have been affirming and validating and nourishing and instead we spent an all too short hour pounding at it in therapy and I feel on the edge of a breakdown because I cannot, in my heart of hearts, accept any of it, feel like I deserve any of it.

If you haven’t experienced the crushing of feeling a depressive episode barreling towards you while you are driving to a McD’s drive-thru for food to match your mood and try to contain your tears as you pay and get your bag of sad food I don’t recommend it. Mostly because it turns out that if I contain it that long when I get home I feel unable to release it and even though it would be so utterly debasing to sob into your double cheeseburger you would feel a release. But now you are denied even that meager catharsis.

It is so utterly painful and just fucking depressing to think you finally know at least part what you need in your life and feel it is completely out of your abilities to be able to accept it. To watch what you need come at you and instead use it as a tool to tear at yourself and not know how to stop it. To know logically it was all well meaning but it’s just ripping into you instead because you don’t know how to feel worthy of it.

Everything circles back to it. My constant state of anxiety, my unhappiness with my life, my inability to muster motivation for the slightest thing. I want to be seen by those a care about, to be heard, to be appreciated, but you can’t look into your past and see when it did (it did, logically I know this, it must have) happen anymore and since you can’t see it from when it happened before you can’t see how it is supposed to work now. How can I be happy with my life when I don’t think I’m worthy of any of it. How can I reach for my dreams when I don’t know how to look at it and see when I achieved something. How can I just BE when everything must be dissected and analyzed to death.

It sounds so pathetic and small.

But it is me.

I am broken.

I am not okay.

I want to be better. I don’t know how to get there.

I will keep trying.

*because I don’t want anyone to worry who reads this: I promise I’m just depressed and angry and frustrated and needing to get it out somewhere. Nothing more.