I haven’t been here in a while. A few months, to be exact. Last post I made was on January 1, and it’s already the middle of April. It may seem like time flew by fast but believe me, every second that passed lingered, made its presence known.
How many times will I apologise to you guys? I didn’t even know if there was anyone to apologise to, but your messages kept coming and I had nowhere to hide anymore. Time to own up to mistakes I didn’t even know I was making. Mostly, I apologise to myself. How could I have kept myself from writing? This was the only thing I had that kept me sane, that made me feel like I had a place somewhere. This is where I belonged, and I abandoned it to try to fit it into a place where there was no room for me.
This is an explanation that I need to do, because I think it will somehow help me in the process of being okay. If you read my tumblr, you may have come across a few posts regarding my depression. It’s one of the few reasons why I abandoned a lot of things, because how could I pretend to write about great experiences that I am only gathering from someone else’s point of view? I just think “oh this is an amazing get together, everyone must be so happy” when inside I just want to go home, be alone and not communicate with anyone. I forgot how to exist in the outside world, in the “adult” world. Everything was a trigger of sorts; I couldn’t go anywhere without hearing things that gave me panic attacks. I was back to 15-20 year old me, being bullied just because and losing one of the people I loved the most because of suicide. I hated myself, I hated everyone, and I’m pretty sure I lost a few friends – which made me fall into a deeper depression since I kept thinking that being me wasn’t good enough. I was triggering myself, giving myself thoughts of my inadequacy of functioning as a capable human being. It comes out of nowhere- random meetings, conversations with coworkers, reading things online, walking along, trying to be an adult – everything and anything could be a trigger. I wasn’t fit for this world. and talking to a therapist makes me feel so judged. I had nowhere to run. Writing itself became a scary thing, so I wrote in this little notebook that no one would ever read so I won’t be made fun of for thinking the way I do. But I don’t want to be scared of living anymore.
I’m still not okay, but I am fighting hard every day to be. I don’t know what made me snap but I’m glad it did. I can’t live my life huddled in fear because of past judgements. I try very hard and I know it’s going to take a very long time, heck I don’t think I’ll be completely healed because it will always be at the back of my mind, reminding me how dark those times were. I’ll get there. I’ll wake up to that day soon.
I want to say more, but that’s all I can muster for now. I will write again, because with every word I type, I regain bearing.
Thank you all for listening 🙂