You wouldn’t understand, so what’s the use?

Depression sucks. Yeah, I know that’s nothing new. But the worst thing about depression is not the disease itself but that it always comes back. I felt so good for so many months. For the first time, I could honestly answer “I’m fine” when people asked me how I was feeling. But then it happened. I went back to school and fell apart all over again. I don’t want any fucking pity, but it’s just not fair, you know? You fight for years and then you think it’s finally over and you finally get to be happy and then… it’s all gone. And you feel like dying again. There’s this pain inside of me and it won’t go away, regardless of what I do. I try so hard, but it won’t change anything.

I had everything. And lost it all.

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I wish I could just give up. Stop trying. Stop fighting. I feel like shit and all I can do is feel it. I wake up every morning and I get up and get through the day and I’m scared I might collapse the next second because I don’t think I can make it through. And somehow I do because I keep my shit together and don’t show how I feel. Sure, I could tell about my feelings. But nobody would understand, so what’s the use? Depression is so hard to understand because it’s invisible. The other people around you don’t have any proof that you’re actually sick even though you are. And you could tell them about it. I did. But the only reactions I got were pity, dumb questions or how I could even be depressed because my life is s great now. Yeah, thanks, I’m aware of that. I know my life is great. I have almost everything I wanted and I love my family and especially my son more than anything, but I’m still not happy.

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People tell me we just need to BE happy because we’re the ones to choose how we want to feel, but they seem to forget that we’re not happy because we didn’t choose to be but because we’re sick. We all want to be happy, but we somehow can’t. It’s all in my head, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less real. God, I want to be happy more than anything (I mean, who likes feeling like shit?), but all I feel is this hopelessness. I still keep going because of my son, but if he wasn’t here, I’d give up and let the shit in my head take over. I’d let myself drown in it because it’s so much easier and fighting obviously won’t get me anywhere either. I’m not doing this for myself anymore because it looks like I can’t be saved. I know that the only one who can save me is me, but I do everything I can and I still don’t feel better. I use skills, do things that make me happy, try to focus on better stuff, distract myself, spend all of my time with my son , mom and sister and I don’t feel any better. I’m not suicidal or feel like harming myself anymore (the last time was almost two years ago), but I feel like drowning and there’s no way to learn how to swim. Why is there such a thing called depression? Why am I suffering from this disorder? I know it all started with my eating disorder which I developed because my dad has always made me feel like I’ll never be good enough (and even though he’s gone, I still can’t get that pattern out of my head), but WHY? I know people who had to go through much worse stuff and they don’t have any disorders. Why do I have it? And why can’t I recover? My counselor keeps telling me these things take time, but it’s been more than half a decade and I’m tired and sick of it. There is nothing more exhausting, nothing harder than fighting your thoughts. Since the relapse started, I’ve been so extremely tired that I could basically sleep anywhere if I let myself. ‘Normal’ people don’t know what it’s like to fight your own mind 24/7. To feel like you’re losing yourself, to feel trapped in your emptiness.

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To stand in front of the mirror and hate every single inch of yourself and you want to fall on your knees and cry until your throat is sore, but you know that would only make things worse, so you don’t. Instead, you breathe deeply and tell yourself not to let it take over. To stay strong. You’re still alive, right? But can you stay strong? Is it even possible? Just smile, you think. Smile and they’ll think you’re alright. Don’t tell them the truth because they wouldn’t understand. They’d think you’re mad, ungrateful, a bad mom or overreacting, right? So just keep your mouth shut and act like everything is fine. Because it has to be. There’s no other way. Life isn’t fair.

http://weheartit.com/Poizonbite/collections/9949126-cut

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Slipping away

How can I say this without breaking?
How can I say this without taking over?
How can I put it down into words
When it’s almost too much for my soul alone?

Do you know this feeling when you’re with other people and everything is fine and you’re feeling alright and then they leave and you’re sitting there and notice how you fall apart completely? You realize it, but you can’t do anything about it? Can’t stop it? That’s what’s happening to me right now. And the thing is, I know what I could do about it. All those skills and positive activities and that kind of crap they teach you to do and use in the hospitals and loony bins. But to be honest, I just don’t have any energy left to do these things. They tell you to pour your energy into everything you love and be passionate and full of whatever kind of shit, so I poured and poured and poured and now the metaphoric cup is empty. And I don’t know what to do about it. Like I just said, I know how to distract myself, but that doesn’t really change anything. I don’t know what I need to actually change my condition, but maybe it’s just a little break from things. You know, to get back my energy. But there’s no way for me to do that. There’s just too much shit I need to handle, so I wake up every day feeling like I just wanna hide under my bed forever, but I don’t, so instead I get up and get through the day, get things done, smile and go to bed and hope to fall asleep before I fall apart. There’s no other way and no other option left for me. I need to make it through. And sometimes I wanna tell the people I love that I feel like shit, but that’s not gonna change anything. They’ll either treat me like a child or a victim and I’ll drown in their pity, they’ll feel insecure and uncomfortable and won’t know what to do or I’ll get to hear extremely helpful things like ‘Don’t be down in the mouth!’ or ‘It’s just a bad day!’. And they’re right, but that doesn’t change things or help me somehow anyway. So I smile and tell them I’m fine. Makes it easier.
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I love my son so much and I need to make it through- for him. I need to be there for him, be happy for him, recover for him, go to counseling for him, get my shit handled, smile, breathe, do all the shit I don’t want to do, study, focus, go to school, pass the finals, get my degree, never get enough sleep, never relax, put all this pressure on me and just get through everything. Because I don’t have a choice. I want him to be proud of me, be proud of myself, be a good role model, be happy and get the life I’ve always wanted- the life that I deserve after everything I’ve been through. All these years I’ve fought so hard and the effort I put into this struggle- I don’t want it to be a total waste of time. I know I can do this. I just don’t know how. How do you get through the day without falling apart when you feel like there’s nothing left of you? Like you’re empty and hollow?
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I just want this to be over, I want to appreciate my life and myself and stop hating myself (especially my body) so fucking much. I just want to be enough for at least once. People tell me to think positive, but how am I supposed to do that? Believe me, I’ve tried everything. But I still feel like crap on a regular basis. Everything is fine, so why do I feel like losing everything? I’m a good mom, a good person, daughter and student and I’m doing a really great job at recovering from my disorders because I never give up and always keep going (no matter how hard it is), so why do I still feel these emotions I can’t even specify? Why are my disorders always stronger than me? I really don’t wanna be a whiny weak loser, but I can’t deal with this crap in my head.
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For Blue Skies

It’s been four long years
Since we last spoke
How’s your halo?
I never believed you
I only wanted to
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Before all of this
What did I miss?
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Do you ever get homesick?
I can’t get used to it
I’ll never get used to it
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I’m under that night
I’m under those stars
We’re in a red car
You asleep at my side
Going in and out of the headlights
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Could I have saved you?
Would that’ve betrayed you?
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I wanna burn this film
You alone with those pills
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What you couldn’t do I will
I forgive you
I’ll forgive you
I forgive you
For blue, blue skies
I’ll forgive you
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So fucking alone

I feel so alone, I can’t even breathe. There’s this huge hole inside of me and it’s black and deep and keeps growing and devouring everything of me. It’s like I’m losing myself bit by bit. Every night, another part of me just fades away into the darkness and I can’t reach out and get it back. That part; I feel like it’s gone forever. And it hurts. The pain is so intense that I struggle to keep breathing. Why does it hurt so much? Why can’t I get better? Why am I feeling like this? I’m not alone, so why am I so lonely? And why the hell am I not healing? The wound is bleeding and I keep putting plasters and bandages on it, but it won’t heal. I just keep losing blood. That person in the mirror; it’s not me. I’ve been replaced by depression and it hits me like a freaking hurricane, destroying everything it touches and leaving nothing behind expect for destruction. Damages that can’t be repaired, issues that can’t be fixed. Can I be fixed? Is there even hope for someone like me? After all these years, is it even possible to fully recover? Or will a part of me always be dead? Will I always feel like there’s something missing even when I have everything? Is this ever gonna end? Since giving birth to Jamie, I’ve been feelingalive for the very first time in several years, but still there are parts of me that are always hidden away, always in the shadows. This kind of fits right now:

When you go into the ER, one of the first things they ask you to do is rate your pain on a scale of one to ten. I’d been asked this question hundreds of times over the years, and I remember once early on when I couldn’t get my breath and it felt like my chest was on fire, flames licking the inside of my ribs fighting for a way to burn out of my body, my parents took me to the ER. The nurse asked me about the pain, and I held up nine fingers. Later the nurse came in and she said, “You know how I know you’re a fighter? You called a ten a nine.” But that wasn’t quite right. I called it a nine because I was saving my ten. And here it was, the great and terrible ten, slamming me again and again as I lay still and alone in my bed staring at the ceiling, the waves tossing me against the rocks then pulling me back out to sea so they could launch me again into the jagged face of the cliff, leaving me floating faceup on the water, undrowned.

I wish I had a Freddie to save me. But darling, this isn’t Skins and I’m not Effy.

Who am I?

Have you ever asked yourself that question? Because I have. Like, you know, multiple times. I can’t even count them anymore. I don’t even know if I’ve lost myself or just never knew who I was. I used to think I was special somehow (like a special kind of weirdo) because I really don’t know anyone who has as many sides and shades as I have.

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People don’t understand it’s possible to love darkness (the night, goth music, art and such), enjoy normal teenage stuff (drugs- yeah, I like them, but I don’t do them anymore, sex- but I don’t have sex anymore because of Jamie, parties- though I don’t attend any anymore, teen movies and books, Starbucks..), get obsessed with things (currently: the British show Skins), hate trends and society, but somehow be a part of it too, expect way too much from yourself (like getting all the A’s in school, study medicine or something and become someone people know and respect), be a good mom (and yes, I am despite my age and that stuff and I actually do and sacrifice everything and anything for him, do everything right and I’m ALWAYS there for him), be smart and well educated (like the fact that I actually like Dante and Shakespeare and don’t just fucking pretend), love nature and animals (yep, I’m that kind of girl that only eats vegan stuff and freaks out when someone throws his cig stub in the grass or treads on ants), have mental issues (because of my blog I don’t think I have to name an example), but I’m stronger than anyone I know and I definitely think and ask way too much about, like, everything. I’m curious and I’m not ashamed of it. Actually I’m usually not ashamed of anything. Everyone hates lies and hiding secrets and still everyone does these things. Well, I don’t.

So that’s me. Normal? I hardly think so. Special? I don’t know. I don’t think I know anything anymore at this point. This point. Where is this point? Where am I and how did I get here? When did I become this person and who is it? Have I lost control? Or did I let go? What the hell is happening here?! I honestly don’t know what to think, do or be anymore. I don’t feel bad, but I don’t feel good either. So what is it that I’m feeling? Shrinks always tell me confusion is a condition and not a feeling, but I don’t know another word to describe what’s inside of me. Whatever it is, it’s a huge mess and I don’t even know why. All I know is I can’t sleep and I’m feeling torn apart inside. Yeah, that’s a feeling! Right? Fuck it, I don’t know. I don’t even know what tears me apart inside. People ask how I feel and I don’t even know what to answer because I just don’t know. Am I okay? Am I crazy? Is this the life I wanted? And if it’s not, then what kind of life is it that I want? And will I ever get it? Will things change? Will I change myself? Change them? There are so many questions and no answers. I’m just sitting here confused AF and not being able to sleep though I’m really, really tired. Of everything and nothing and most of all, of myself. Because I’m just way too complicated. No wonder I’m single, right? Nobody can handle me anyway. Not even I can. I want to fit it- and somehow I don’t want to. Does that make sense? No. We’re told we can be anything, but I don’t even know what I wanna be. Just be yourself, right? Well, what is this ‘myself’? Who is it? Is it something narrowly and accurately defined? Am I supposed to figure it out? Will I ever?

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I know how people want me to be, how they want everyone to be (turn on the TV and you’ll know), but do I wanna be like that? I don’t hate myself, not anymore. But I don’t know myself either.

And I’ve lost who I am, and I can’t understand.
Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love, without, love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on.
But I know, all I know, is that the end’s beginning.
Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart.
Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent.
All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain.
All is lost, hope remains, and this war’s not over.
There’s a light, there’s the sun, taking all shattered ones.
To the place we belong, and his love will conquer all.

 

 

Are we ever ready to let go?

I tried to walk together
But the night was growing dark
Thought you were beside me
But I reached and you were gone
Sometimes I hear you calling
From some lost and distant shore
I hear you crying softly for the way it was before

Where are you now?
Are you lost?
Will I find you again?
Are you alone?
Are you afraid?
Are you searching for me?
Why did you go? I had to stay
Now I’m reaching for you
Will you wait? will you wait?
Will I see you again?

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You took it with you when you left
These scars are just a trace
Now it wanders lost and wounded
This heart that I misplaced

Where are you now?
Are you lost?
Will I find you again?
Are you alone?
Are you afraid?
Are you searching for me?
Why did you go? I had to stay
Now I’m reaching for you
Will you wait? will you wait?
Will I see you again?

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I won’t drown again.

I’m relapsing. I cannot deny it anymore. It’s true and though I don’t say it loud and tell people, it’s happening. The thing is: it’s different this time. I have a reason to fight. This is not about me anymore; it’s about my son. He deserves a mother who’s there for him, takes care and loves him unconditionally and not some psycho stuck in her sick mind. I’m not gonna let the disorders win again; not this time. I’m stronger and better than that. It hurts like hell, but I’ll make it through. There is no other fucking way. No way I’m gonna give up. Not. This. Time.

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Down again.

I can’t hold on to me, wonder what’s wrong with me

I thought it was over. I thought it was gone and I was over it. I thought it was alright. But I was so, so wrong. It always comes back and it’s never gone. I’m having the nights again. That kind of nights I was so scared of, that kind of nights that ruined everything. I can feel it in every single bone when it comes and can’t do anything about it. I’m just sitting there on my bed and feel it how I fall apart. Suddenly, I just lose myself completely and break down and there’s the pain inside of me, screaming, aching, trying to kill me. And I feel like fading away all over again. I don’t want this to happen. I don’t want to lose myself again. I want to live, I want to be happy, for god’s sake! After all this shit, I fucking need it! But life’s not fair after all, right? You don’t get what you want. Maybe I don’t deserve it anyway. And I can officially say that depression is back now- only at night, but the nights are the worst. But I won’t officially say anything because I don’t want anyone to know. They wouldn’t understand- nobody would. Not even I understand. It’s never enough, no matter how hard I try.

Here in the darkness I know myself

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Time

I watched Titanic today and now my thoughts won’t stop spinning. I can’t understand people like my mom who watch something so horrible and then it’s over and she asks what I want for dinner. I can’t understand people who can just move on so easily. I don’t cry because of such tragedies because I know it’s already over and I can’t change anything about it anymore, but neither I can just get back to dumb, useless stuff wasting my time. Time that’s not given to everyone.
There’s a scene in the movie about the Titanic when one of the lifeboats passes a frostbitten baby which made me think about all those lives- not just back then on the Titanic- like this dead child’s who never even got the chance to live- the chance that every living, breathing, feeling being deserves and should be given. Who is mankind to dare judge and rule who’s to live and who’s to die? Who gave us the right to make this decision?

I think about all the starving kids and slaughtered animals that die every day though we could save them easily. We could, but we don’t. I’m sitting here, alive, while others are six feet under. Some artist I read about once said: No smart man could be happy in a world like this.
I’m giving my best not to waste my time here and consider the life I was given as the most precious thing in the world (which it definitely is), but still sometimes I can’t keep myself from hating myself and all the people around me for our ignorance, the reason why everything is falling apart here. The car you drive is widening the ozone hole, the electric tools you use daily are destroying the limited resources, the steak you eat is ripping an innocent being’s life away and the clothes you wear exploit and prey some good woman in a small town in Asia. I’m trying to be happy, but how can I while such things keep happening and I know it’s my fault as well?

A therapist once told me dumbest people are the happiest and it took me long to realize that sentence may be one of the smartest ones I was ever told.
I won’t change anything by writing this, but neither I will by ignoring and being ignorant.
I want to change something here. I wanna leave this life knowing there’s something good and important left of me. I don’t care about being remembered, but I do care about saving at least a small piece of this world- even though I don’t know how to do that yet. But I have time to figure it out- time others will never have.

What it’s like with depression

Before I started my therapy in the psychosomatic hospital where I still am right now, I went to school and on one of my last days, we talked about the topic depression. I could have killed everyone in the classroom. Depression is when you’re sad all the time, the teacher explained. And sometimes you don’t feel anything at all. And a student responded, then I have depression too! The class laughed and others agreed with him. Why is depression even an illness?, someone asked. We’re all sad sometimes. And I felt the urge to scream. When I think back, I know I should’ve stood up and tell them what it really means to be suffering from depression. 

I would have said: 
Do you wanna know what it’s like with depression? It’s like drowning. Expect you can see everyone around you breathing. You’re in a huge dark ocean and you’re struggling and struggling so hard, but no matter how hard you try, you just can’t reach the surface. You cannot swim. And while you’re drowning, you try to scream, but you can’t because only water fills your lungs. And you’re suffering down there and nobody can see anything. They just see the ocean’s still surface. Not what lies underneath. When you’re suffering from depression, it’s not just sadness. That’s not what it feels like. It’s living with a constant pain, the water in the ocean, that pulls you down every single day. And you try so hard, but you just can’t fight it. Sometimes you think it gets better, but it just takes a break. And then it comes back and it crashes down like a wave and makes you lose the floor under your feet. You can take pills and numb the pain, but it won’t fade away. 

But I couldn’t. I just sat there, dying inside.

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