I don't know how you did it, but I do understand why. Your pain made death look better, than trying to stay alive.
Tag: depression
Reality Check
I think I started losing myself again in June…
One of the biggest issues with having BPD revolves around change. And honestly, this includes ANY kind of change, but for me it tends to revolve around routines. I think that for the most part people without mental health issues view changes in their routines as seemingly insignificant, tolerable, maybe slightly inconvenient… However, my mind fucking spirals when my habits and patterns become skewed.
In spring a close friend of mine moved away, not far, but far enough that meeting up wasn’t as easy. Yes, some of my daily routines, past times, and work life changed, but I was doing okay. I did worry that communication was going to change as well, but it really didn’t too much and I’ve been adapting to the best of my ability. Around that time I also lost my doctor to retirement (like good for her, but bad for me) who I trusted. If you have mental health issues, you understand how fucked it can be trying to find a provider that you trust and doesn’t make you feel like you just need more sunlight or whatever. But then in the end of June I lost a friend to well… the afterlife. She was 99 and on hospice though so I mean it wasn’t unexpected. I was lucky enough to be able to say goodbye and I truly felt at peace about it (And think I still am). Yet… these are all events are changes, some bigger than others, but changes nonetheless. So since spring I have been hyper-focused on death, changes, and losing the people around me to the point that I’ve begun to lose myself.
So now, I can see that I have apparently spiraled once more due to my inability to tolerate changes. The equation for the spiral begins with change, which leads to overwhelming anxiety, which then leads to non-suicidal depression, which then leads to self-hate, which inevitably leads to a series of self-sabotage techniques (which I have perfected). And here I am. Again.
I had a reality check this weekend and realized how much I have begun to self-sabotage myself again. I’m doing things that “normal” people would probably be moderately concerned about and that I should’ve been able to recognize as unhealthy. Most are small things… just things to boost my serotonin levels even for a bit… but all these little things have added up into piles of bullshit. Bad habits, negative thought processes, irrationality, sadness, paranoia, insomnia, self-harm, etc. But the WORST PART is that I’m looking to others to make myself feel better and distract me which is never okay. It’s just not fair to myself or others.
I KNOW how to make myself happy and actually deal with issues in a healthy way. I KNOW how to make my mindset better and what I should be doing. I KNOW I need a medication adjustment too (in process) because you can’t fix chemical imbalances with mediation and hobbies… sorry but you just fucking can’t. I KNOW what to do, but it’s like I’m completely ignorant and unaware of how bad things are until they get to this point. I keep thinking I’m completely self-aware of issues, but honestly unless someone really brings it to my attention, I’m only like half self-aware. Which isn’t super.
So yeah… here I sit… bitch-slapped by reality. Which honestly is okay. I’ve been through WAY WAY worse, but this still isn’t great. However, I do think that between this realization, some positive changes, reaching out for help, and a new med I’ll be doing okay again. Possibly even great. Who really knows… But at least I’m 100% aware now.
That’s it. That’s all I got.
Thanks for reading my thoughts.
-Hal
“Happiness”
I don’t know how to exist as “happy”.
I’m realizing that I’m not really having any bad days anymore. Sure I still have bad moments, but the full days of overwhelming sadness and anger have seemingly dissipated. I know this is a good thing because no one should be internally suffering. However, I almost feel like I don’t know how to function without having to fight myself.
Don’t get me wrong though… I like the feeling of mental stability, but I still find myself subconsciously searching for anything to be upset about and I’m not sure why. It’s like my fight-or-flight mode is now panicking with newfound boredom and trying to find anything to stir itself up. Which is fucked I know.
It’s kind of funny though…
I’ve been striving years for this “happiness”. All the meds, therapies, blah blah blah… and now I get here and I’m not sure how to handle it. Now it’s the irony of “how do I manage to survive without exhausting amounts of depression and anxiety?” My head is something else…
Well… here’s to “happiness”. 😏🖤 Cheers.
-Hal
Indisposed
She laid there desolate and indisposed... Her cold fingers twisting strands of fine blonde hair. Her green eyes staring at nothing but the ceiling... While her mind tried to remind her why she ever cared.
Chemicals
It's just a powder... White Pressed and covered in an enteric-coated shell... Altering my mind to chemically convince me that I'm well. Branded to fix all the dopamine and serotonin... In lieu of my over-indulgence of caffeine and melatonin. Side effects may include suicidal thoughts and/or actions... Yet misery also holds a certain level of attraction.
Disassociated
Empty eyes staring blankly. Focused only on the disregarded imperfections on a painted plaster wall.
Ms. Depression
I feel her slowly creeping in like a snake in the grass... Ready to make her arrival... Ready to take over this body... And ready to constrict this unmedicated and vulnerable version of me...
Fragments
Fragments of myself
have been hovering,
Suspended above me
in my own abyss of isolation.
I’ve been trying so hard
to get ahold of them,
Repeatedly reaching out
in acts of desperation.
But every time I go
to grasp them…
My touch just pushes them
into the wrong direction.
Outnumbered
Over time
my flaws
and faults
seemed to overpower
any and all of
my strengths
and successes...
And I began to
feel hopelessly
outnumbered
by myself.
Awakening
I was out on the dock Of the lake one dark night. I thought I was alone But you just weren't in my sight. With your hand around my neck You swiftly struck out my light. Then you tied the rope To the cinder block so tight. And I sank. And I drowned. And I lost all hope... But then the rope... It fucking broke. I fought to the surface Pain with every stroke. Leaving behind all the hopelessness That you had evoked. I reached the cool air Now gasping as I choked. I knew I had made it From you and your rope.
AO Poetry 
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