Wasted youth

Yeah, I wish I’d been a teen idle
Wish I’d been a prom queen fighting for the title
Instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible
Feeling super suicidal

– Teen Idle (Marina And The Diamonds)

Songs like this one make me think about my teenage years (though it’s actually not my genre because I don’t listen to pop music and such stuff).
If I’m being honest, I didn’t really have something you could call a youth.
I had a childhood, yes, but the way my life was ripped out of my arms afterwards can’t be called teenage years. My eating disorder came into my life when I was ten and I had chronic depression, insomnia and social anxiety by the time I was twelve. Shortly after my thirteenth birthday, I tried to kill myself- twice. My parents got divorced afterwards- and I was even happy about it. The same year, I was admitted to a psychiatry and it was not the last time. Today, I can count five times there and two in a psychosomatic hospital- not to forget the time I spent in the emergency room and the four months in some facility for incurable cases (which is what it was though they would have never called it such a name there) like I seemed to be back then.
Yes, today I am recovering, slowly, but such things take time and I already have progressed so much (no ED or suicidal thoughts or behaviors in 10 months and no self harm in about 16 months or something), but now I’m pregnant and will have a baby before Christmas. Of course I’m totally looking forward to it, my baby is the most important person in my life and I think it’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me, but nobody can doubt it’s too early. I haven’t even finished high school yet. Thanks to the hospitals, I won’t have before 2018.
My youth? About five parties when we had the evening off in the hospital or I was still friends with some junkies who called getting high till they couldn’t spell their names anymore a party.
I’ve accepted the way it is now and in some weird way, it’s never been better, but of course there is also a bitter pill to swallow. The bitter pill called a wasted youth.

The wasted years, the wasted youth
The pretty lies, the ugly truth

Though they’re shallow, unknowing, uneducated and stupid, I’m sort of jealous of the normal teens I see every day. The useless lives they lead give them one thing I’ve never had and will never have: they’re simple, normal, easy and happy.
They go to school from Monday to Friday thinking about their families, friends and exams, spend Friday night in bed with their boyfriends or girlfriends, go shopping or hang around with friends during Saturday, get drunk in the evening with alcoholic beverages they actually aren’t allowed to buy and spend half the Sunday being hungover and the other half studying a little for the upcoming new week.
So simple, so easy, so happy. They make mistakes, usually don’t learn from them either, party and study. That’s it. And this simple kind of happiness those teenage years bring has never been and will never be a part of my life.
What will I tell my unborn son about it one day?
‘Sorry, I was in a nuthouse back then when I should have been an adolescent and then you came’?
I wish Jamie (that’s the name I’ll give my baby) would have taken five more years and I would have had time to do all those average teen things. Away from the disorders right into motherhood- that’s too much in such a short period of time.
I know it’s nobody’s fault and believe me, I certainly do not want compassion or pity from anyone because that makes me feel like a stupid helpless toddler, but I have these regrets deep down anyway. (And the fears of failure and relapses are even worse, but that’s not the topic right now.)
I wish I could change something. But I can’t. The time I could have had is gone and I’ll never get it back, that’s just how it is.

gif, youth, and teen idle image

Do you know what it’s like?

I wrote this for some bitch whom I told that I’m suffering from an eating disorder and depression and a few other things she answered something like this: where is your problem? Stop exaggerating. We all diet sometimes and during puberty, everyone has breakdowns and a mood that goes up and down and sometimes even sadness for no reason.
Later I told her about losing my best friend and her answer was: well, everyone dies sooner or later. And by the way, suicide is an act of cowardice anyway. I could also name other things she caricatured, but I guess it’s not necessary cuz you already got the point.
And all that shit coming out of her mouth pissed me off so damn much, but I have manners and higher standards, so I responded this instead of giving her medical definitions she wouldn’t care about anyway:

“Do you know what it’s like when:

– you wake up and want to die
– you slit up your own skin because you think you deserve the pain
– you stick your finger in your throat after every single meal
– you’re scared to leave your bed
– you go to bed and wish you’d never wake up again
– you feel like your skin is burning all the time
– you have nightmares about your future
– you’re rotting from the inside
– all you can think about is death
– you want to kill everyone you love
– you’re scared to even touch food
– you hate every inch of your body
– your body is your worst enemy
– you don’t feel anything at all for weeks expect this endless emptiness
– you don’t even feel physical pain anymore
– you can’t live without pills
– you’re scared to get close but hate being alone
– the most important person in your life dies
– you’re always alone
– no one can help you
– even doctors say it’s hopeless
– you don’t know what happiness feels like
– you feel the urge to kill everyone cuz you think all people are bad
– you can never trust anyone
– all you focus on is trying to numb the pain inside
– the pain is with you all the time
– no matter how good you feel, a part of you always stays dead
– you’d give everything in the world to talk to someone for one last time
– every height, knife or street is a temptation
– you only feel good while hurting others
– you can’t live with yourself
– you feel guilty for every single bite
– you want to punish yourself even though you don’t even have a reason for it

If you don’t, you should better shut the fuck up because you have no idea what you’re actually talking about. And you should be happy about that.
Mental illnesses are demons in your head and they try to kill you every day. Be glad you’re happy and normal, but don’t you dare to stultify people who are suffering from these things.

Sincerely, the ‘stupid little exaggerating girl'”

I know this was sort of exaggerating, but I couldn’t have made my point so clear otherwise.

Free again bitches!

I spent a few days in a mental hospital again (for the sixth time), but this time they let me go after only three days. I’ve never had that much luck in psychiatries before. You can’t imagine how glad I am to be home again. It’s so awful in there, like jail for crazy people. My psychologist sent me there because I was very suicidal again and planned on killing myself again. But for the very first time in my entire life, I was the one who told the truth that I want to do it and need to be protected from myself. I’ve never been ‘the voluntary one’ in there before. Strange feeling. But I’m very proud of myself for being able to speak up when I needed help because it has always been difficult for me to seek for help and especially appreciate it. But this time I did it and now I’m still alive and I definitely don’t regret that.
Nobody wants to die, we all just want to kill the pain and I’ll try to do that without harming myself. Let’s give it my best shot. I’ll make it, somehow. The extreme ups and downs when it comes to my mood are very exhausting and complicated and I know it’s because of this fucking borderline syndrome that turns feelings into a thunderstorm of confusing shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll always let this shit control me. I’ll find a way to deal with this because I’ve survived way too much to die now from these stupid disorders. I was able to say that I need help, I got the help, was protected and now I’m better and I’m able to take care of myself again which is why I’m already at home.
Now it’s my task to take the next step that leads me to the healthy life I’ve always wanted and never had- but I will reach it. Because I’ll keep going and stay fucking strong. I’ll show my dead best friend that suicide is never the answer and you can also find happiness in another way. I’ll show her that it’s possible to live and not just survive. There will be a lot of relapses and now I’m finally able to accept them, but I won’t let them tear me down again. I’ll make it through. I had so much time and boredom in the funny farm, so I also decided to invent some new rules. I call them the ‘top ten rules for recovery’ and I’d like to share them with you. Maybe it’s an inspiration for other crazy guys out there who want to be happy one day and are willing to fight for it. We never chose our disorders, but we can choose recovery if we keep believing in ourselves.

1: stay strong
(example: don’t harm yourself in any way)
2: keep going
(don’t give up)
3: allow relapses
(they are part of recovery)
4: use skills
(don’t let disorders control you)
5: spend time with the loved ones
6: accept and appreciate help
(sometimes you need it)
7: eat healthy
(do not starve, binge or purge)
8: focus on goals and take the necessary steps to reach them
(in my case: graduate high school to be able to go to college)
9: accept limits
(there are rules and you can’t do anything)
10: value your whole self: personality, character and body