Sunday, April 27, 2014

Everything is Moving

Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.
- Frieda Kahlo

Spent the last hour removing pathetic soppy pins from my Pinterest account. I have come some distance from the days when I would just lie in bed in tears, going through every dog photo, gif and video I could find just to have enough motivation to get up and maybe eat or on good days, do laundry.

Looking back I can't help but find overwhelming compassion for the old me. Not self pity. But a sadness tinged with sympathy. How a human being can be so broken with not a single scratch on her skin. When self harm was only thwarted by cowardice.

It's a place I never want to be ever again.

The point when the chest hurts from too much crying and the heart sinks from the weight of living, alone, in the dark, abandoned. But you know, despite what well meaning people say, that my family is with me, my friends, even the end it's a lonely battle, with myself, in my head.

When a once uttered derision echoes again and again, bouncing of the walls, to bend me down lower and lower until I believe that I am nothing more than dirt. Then I become my own persecutor. I don't only agree with detractors, I join in and strangle my own self worth with my bare hands. Left to rot, the mind ceases to see logic.

Although still far from freedom, my latest meltdown was less than a week ago, when I look back at my blog posts and pin from where I am now, how utterly miserable must I have been to relate to such sadness.

But the battle continues on. Hopefully there will come a time when even this post will feel unseemly.

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Playing with knives

I thought I was  on the razor edge of depression. Seems like I have already fallen. Somedays I believe me when I tell myself that I am alright. Oscar winning performances can somewhat fool some friends into thinking I am ok. At least I think they are fooled. Yet on other days, I can't lie to myself. I will never be ok anymore. I lost some pieces of me and I can't ever be whole.

I learnt how a friend lost her sister suddenly. And another acquaintance lost his close friend to suicide. I have spent hours stalking their Facebook reading the beautiful notes left behind by their loved  ones. And I feel jealous of all the love they had in their lives and the difference they made. I feel jealous that one had the courage to take her own life.

And I think about my own mortality. How empty my own service would be. How stark my own page would be. How discouraging. I don't have the will or motivation to carry on and neither the courage to end it all. To continually feel  deserving of hurt is of course not healthy but I can't deny what I feel.