So i’m currently 36 days into my holiday, and am sitting in the absolute dark with a ceiling fan to save me from overheating- the silent whirring sound of it is soothing and is usually very rhythmic… But the heavy beating of my heart within my chest and the eyes that have tears welled up waiting to fall stop me from being comfortable.
I’m not on holiday anymore. That good effect has worn off, the good ‘holiday vibe’ lasted a week- 10 days maybe. But the vibe wore off. And now it feels like a daily struggle to push the depression to the side and try to be happy. The depression feels ten times as worse because it feels like not even environment change helped, i’m supposed to be on holiday. I’m supposed to enjoy myself. So why am i not? I force myself to enjoy, but it just seems so hard. It feels like everyday i have to put 10 times as much effort in to making myself at least seem happy. I try to force myself to be happy, not like it’s possible, but still. Trying is what counts right?
I hate waking up every morning and putting on make up so that i can go around and look like i’m on holiday and enjoying, rather than staying in my pyjamas, a messy bun and tears strolling down my face. I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate that when i get low, i go and put on more make up to try and make me feel that i look better on the outside and thats somehow to compensate for how i feel on the inside. I hate living a lie. But i do even then. Because somehow it’s my shield, i feel a lot less vulnerable when people don’t know my problems.
Okay. I have just wasted at least 5 mins of your time ranting, and my mum just walked in to the room. Perfect timing. Have to bite back the tears. Good thing i kept the lights off or she’d have seen the tears. *wipes face* okay…
So this is my strong brave face up… And now i’ll talk about something. First apologies for the rant and for not posting in a long time. So today i want to talk about ‘thinking’. Anyone close to me knows that i spend a lot of time thinking. I overthink actually. But i never saw it as a problem.
When my niece was was born, and i held her in my arms for the first time. She became THAT REASON, the one i needed to live. The one that was going to be my strength, my motivation and my reason. Her small smile had my to my knees. Everyone says she’s a mini me. I agree. Photo’s have been a witness to that fact. I haven’t attempted since she was born, because to me, she became my second chance. Not everyone gets one, but i guess in a way i did. She will live her life and i will do everything i can to protect her from the demons that took over my life. Everything i can. Thats when i began to think, what are my demons? Bullies? Hopefully if we have an open communication link-one i didn’t have- she’ll tell me about that so i can help. Depression? Theres no way to stop that, but we can try prevent circumstances that may lead it. But one main demon… THINKING. I didn’t know how to describe it better than this quote i found;
“Thinking about something is like picking up a stone when taking a walk, either while skipping rocks on the beach, for example, or looking for a way to shatter the glass doors of a museum. When you think about something, it adds a bit of weight to your walk, and as you think about more and more things you are liable to feel heavier and heavier, until you are so burdened you cannot take any further steps, and can only sit and stare at the gentle movements of the ocean waves or security guards, thinking too hard bout too many things to do anything else.”
Lemony Snicket, The End
The truth is, thinking can kill. Literally. In both of my suicide attempts i spent hours before it, thinking. About everything. Literally. Every incident that made me cry, that hurt me, shamed me, humiliated and degraded me. I thought for hours. Even in my sleep my mind wouldn’t shut up. Instead it went on and on, the memories, the thoughts, they never stopped. I wished they did. Because if they did, they’d have never pushed me to the edge. But they didn’t stop, instead they wedged me towards the edge again and again.
All i have done all day today is think. Thats all. I slept a lot of my day, just to try and make the thoughts stop. They didn’t. But i’m not close to the edge at the moment. I feel comfortable in my thinking, its this false sense of security it gives me. But the fact that i know it’s false is what keeps me going. I know i’m weak and tired, but i also know i will rise.
Thinking never stops. So don’t try to rein your thoughts, instead give them a direction and let them run wild, who knows? You may just explore something new? Thinking can kill, but so can anything else, even a spoon, use it right and you’ll grow…
Ps. I think the last paragraph should one day be quoted. I actually like the way i wrote it.