The Intro

So, my first, ‘blog post’. My first post that I'm going to share with the world about the one thing I feel I have some jurisdiction to write about, mental illness.

To those of you reading this and don’t know who I am, feel free to leave, judge or comment. My purpose of being here is to no longer be scared of you. The many, many times I have written something, published it and then immediately either deleted it or done EVERYTHING in my power to make sure no one I know actually reads it is, well, unquantifiable. Suffice to say, it is a lot of times.
And to those of you reading this that DO know me personally, you can also feel free to leave, judge, or comment. My purpose of being here is to no longer be scared of you too.

This might all sound a little confusing and self indulgent, but bare with me, it’ll get interesting.

I realised a while ago I was fucked. I realised not longer after I realised I was fucked that I had been fucked for a LONG time. We’re all being fucked by someone, and I don’t mean in the nice, go out for dinner beforehand kind of way.

Have you settled into adult life? Are you working in the bottom rung position, arse licking everyone in sight? Yeah, that bad taste in your mouth each morning isn’t just morning breath – it’s that bitter taste of crap you swallow every time you smile sweetly at someone you hate or laugh flakily at unfunny jokes in an office that reeks of fakes and floozies and people absolutely destined to become subjects of your nightmares.
Do you have an adequate degree yet? Are you working towards one? Did you give up education to have children?  Do you have a mortgage for a house you don’t want and can’t afford? Are you in love? Would you fight for it? Does it consume you? Or are you lonely, confused, miserable and promising yourself tomorrow will be different?
Wherever you are, and (I appreciate my list is limited – there are other places in life to be, I know), I bet it’s not an easy or comfortable place to be.

As I catapult myself towards the 27^th year of being wretched on this wretched planet, I can’t help but wonder – when will this shit not be so shit? It’s no longer a question of ‘are you fucked?’ but more – ‘how fucked are you’?
Not sure how to answer that one for myself and not sure I ever will. My life has so far been a series of disastrous mistakes, from the small food choice I make on a daily basis to fairly large job choices, friend choices, relationship choices and ultimately, trust choices. Not just in my relationships, but within myself. I have NEVER, EVER trusted myself to make a correct decision, EVER.

I pour over every word I type, speak and think, and still never quite feel I’ve used the right one. It’s utterly exhausting. I beat myself up on a daily basis about the way I look, talk, sound, think, feel and how other people see me. I can’t remember the last time I genuinely felt ‘at ease’.
This year has been an exceptionally bad one. Not because of ‘what’s happened’, shit happens every day to everyone and I get that. I don’t think my situational position this year have landed me with my current grey cloud, I can't pinpoint what has.
Suffering largely in silence my whole life, I have never spoken about the exact way I feel to anyone during any of my emotional break downs, and looking back through my life there has been plenty, whether I've realised this or not. I have ALWAYS covered up how I feel. I have omitted or fabricated critical pieces of information and situations to try and make myself not just look and sound better, but feel better too. I don’t think I've ever told the complete truth about my life and how I feel about it, ever.
So I have recently been put on a medicine called ‘Sertraline’ which has so far calmed me down physically. Over the last week I have not once had a sweaty, shaky, heart pounding episode of fear that has struck me repeatedly in various situations over the last few years. I also haven’t felt like beating the shit out of anyone who says hello to me in the wrong way OR crying my heart out over an overdue message from my boyfriend. I’ve THOUGHT about behaving that way, I just haven’t physically wanted to. So, for a week, for me, that’s pretty good.

My life is not where I want it to be. It’s not what I want it to be and I am not who I want to be. And the funny thing is, I think a lot of people who are on the outside looking into my life and who take the things I tell them at face value (why wouldn’t you?) think my life is pretty okay. Well it’s not, and it hasn’t been for a very long time and I have FINALLY decided to be honest and open about it in the most narcissistic way possible, another little blog that I’ll probably forget about once the meds kick in and I ‘feel better’.

I know SO many people who are in a similar boat as me. Frustrated, lonely, tired, sad, embarrassed and nowhere near ready to face this world and talk about all the shit that bogs them down. I have lived in the presence of genius and watched it decline until the point of utter obscurity. I have also lived in the presence of mediocrity and that, too, is no better. People deserve much more than this uncomfortable way of living – dying a little every day just to succeed in a world that doesn't want you.

Whatever this turns out to be – I just want people to know that I feel alone, and many, many others do too. We’re not. I need help in realising that I am not, so this is a little plea for help, compassion and understanding.

It’s also a massive ‘fuck you’ to the stigma’s that attach itself to us, our little colony of grey clouded mind fucks who have no idea what the problem is, but just know there’s a problem.

I’m late to this party, and I didn’t bring a gift for the host. Hopefully that means once I’ve left I won't be invited back.