You ramble about them in blog form.
I wasn’t absent for too long this time.
And I want to talk about my feelings. Feelings the professionals say are normal for someone like me.
We are going to talk about this because I know I am not the only one. Whether you suffer from these feelings or you are on the receiving end, maybe this can help you understand it a little bit more.
The first feeling that comes to mind isn’t a feeling at all. As a matter of fact, it may be shocking given the preventative measures I have been taking to combat this.
Yes, death. Not suicide. Suicidal, maybe. I don’t really know anymore. But this notion eats at me every day.
Before I continue, I need to clarify that (once again), I have no desire to take my own life. The thoughts are there but I will not allow myself to go through the motions again. And fail. Again.
I have a pretty happy little life. I love my husband and my family very much. I would quite literally die for them. (Ironic, as I am living for them, eh?) I’m a spoiled little brat when it comes to my marriage, as you guys may have picked up earlier in the series. I live a very outwardly stress-free life. Very little drama. Free to do whatever I please.
So why the fuck do I wake up pissed off that I made it to the next day?
Feelings of unworthiness. Unproductivity. Lack of inspiration. The fatigue. The guilt. Wavering confidence. The irritability. I mean, if we are taking guesses and all.
I feel like a waste of space.
I wonder if my husband ever looks me in the eyes and thinks “this girl is just not happy with me anymore.” I pray he comes to me the moment that thought crosses his mind.
Because I am happy with him. I’m just not happy with myself and I am struggling with it.
Myself looking through his eyes? I would see a rather unattractive woman who spends her days smoking and drinking massive amounts of coffee on his dollar. A woman who is constantly rude and angry despite all the effort he puts in. A woman who is glued to her phone at all hours of the day, replacing productivity with mindless scrolling.
I can tell you right now he disagrees.
But how can he continue to love me when the only thing I feel anymore is the pain of rock bottom? I sure the hell don’t love myself. Why should anyone else?
I feel like a burden.
Sometimes I wonder if they would be better off without me. I worry people. That is all I do really. What if they didn’t have to worry anymore?
I feel like a failure.
My plate is full and I eat like a bird. I have overwhelmed myself with jobs and projects and books. Progress is terribly slow and I regret my ambition at times. I want to do it all. But I can’t.
I just can’t.
I can’t do the things I want to do for myself or for others. I just don’t have the energy anymore.
I don’t have the energy to hold conversations or complete simple tasks.
The things I do are forced. Every response. Every gesture. Every chore. And it takes every ounce of mental energy I have.
So these thoughts and feelings. They have me withdrawn. They have me house ridden. I’m not the person I want to be anymore.
I’m still here. Because I can’t not be. Same goes for you.
Look at life as a game. Metaphorically, obviously.
When you die, game over. But this game doesn’t have save points in which you respawn. When you die, it is done. You don’t get to experience the rest of the game.
That might sound stupid to some of you, but it is simple logic like that that can keep someone going.
If I were to kill myself right after I hit publish, that would be it.
I couldn’t continue to reach out to others who struggle like I do. I wouldn’t see my loved ones grow old and happy. And I would hurt a lot more people than I could potentially help if I ended it today.
I guess the point to this particular blog is that, despite that voice in the back of your head telling you that it just isn’t worth it anymore, there is always a reason to fight back. You just have to discover that reason.
Fight for your mental health. Fight for control. Fight for your life.
Fight for your right to partayyyyyyyyyyy. 😉