100 Happy Days

It’s very, very easy to feel like no one understands you, especially when no one is listening.

I have felt for longer than I can remember now that no one listens to me or takes me seriously or actually cares at all about the thoughts I have. This has caused me quite a lot of pain and fractured my confidence hugely over the last few years.
There are SO many things I don't like about people, the people I have chosen to let in my life as well as the people I can’t do anything about being in my life. Though more than these people, there are things I really, really don’t like about myself. Okay, that’s stating the obvious, obviously I don’t expect anyone truly loves EVERYTHING about themselves, and also obvious because I started writing this for the internet ether to try and express myself about my depression and anxiety, but it’s not always as clear cut as gloom and doom.

I feel really conflicted in my views on approaching the battle, recently. I certainly feel like everyone should feel totally free and comfortable to talk about how they feel, to anyone they choose, but sometimes you need to draw a line.

I frequently feel lonely, sad, isolated, angry, frustrated, stifled and unhappy. Sometimes I feel all these things in the space of one day (read: hour). I feel like it is my right to talk about these feelings to the people closest to me, a little so they understand, a little so they can fulfil their jobs as ‘friends’ and a little to just feel the way I feel at the time I feel it and get it out. I think one shouldn’t have to constantly put on a mask and pretend to anyone, (lying to yourself and your loved ones is a perpetual reason for worsening depression). BUT... isn’t sometimes, enough, just, well, enough?
I’m well aware most loved ones only want to help and are only worried about me/you and your happiness. I for one know that my J is continually wishing he could make me happy, and often mentions that it upsets him that he can't do that. Is that fair? No. This makes me feel like I cause HIM unhappiness. Is it my fault? No. Is it his? No. Is it common? Yes. Is it frustrating for both parties? Most certainly.

If I read back my diary, as far back as the entries go (about 14 years), very few of them are remembering happy moments or capturing exciting times in my life. When I read them I feel grey. I’ve conditioned myself to write things down when I am associating with negativity, because I’ve always believed this helps me through the dark times. And it absolutely has helped me, in a way, anyway. It helps me express and get out how I’m feeling. It helps me de-compartmentalize. It helps me to make small senses of things that have been blown up in my mind and that send my emotions rollercoastering all around the place. But as I keep all my entries, it also helps to serve as a reminder of the bad times. Just like talking to someone, does.

Before when I said, ‘isn’t enough, enough?’ I was NOT hinting at replacing talking to someone when you feel ill with writing, THAT certainly doesn’t work. I want to work towards a world where there is ZERO stigma or discrimination attached to mental health, where dedicated professionals are on hand to help and there is a comfortable outlet available 24/7 for people who need help. But what I’m talking about is there are people out there (like me) who have the issue of mistaking negativity for ‘low mood’.
For a very long time I have been battling demons, for a variety of reasons. I still struggle over ten years on from a family bereavement and the carnage it left behind. I am body dimorphic. I have social anxiety. My father’s side of the family is beyond messed up. I have severe anger issues when I don't get my own way. I am really paranoid. I am really selfish. I have huge debts that I cannot pay. I have a failed business. I have failed friendships, and I generally have a broken family life. I have hated all my jobs, and I have never been any good at any of them.
What I’m beginning to think more and more is that yes, I have a right to feel down, but I do very little to bring myself out of the lull. I have tried three types of medication on three occasions now over a number of years and I find it either works for a period of time and then you’re back to square one or it just numbs me completely and whilst I don’t feel like I want to jump in front of a train, it doesn’t make me want to live either – it takes away all emotions and you’re just left as an empty vessel. I have tried counselling, it just wasn’t for me with the NHS, but I understand the IMMENSE importance of its existence and am a huge supporter of ANYONE giving it a go.
What I haven’t really tried, is just doing more things that make me happy. Sometimes I don't even know what makes me happy, is it shopping? Being with friends/family? Watching something funny? Sex? Walking? Running? Reading? Writing? Working?
I’ve had to really think about it and that seems crazy to me, how can you not know what makes you happy?! And is it really that simple?

So, the whole point of this ‘post’ (and to prove the ramble above isn’t totally random) is because I made a decision last week to take the ‘100 Happy Days Challenge’, details of which can be found here - http://100happydays.com/
The point is, you do one thing every day that makes you happy and take a photo of something that represents it. You can choose to upload it onto social media with the hashtag #100happydays (so the creators can find you) or you can post privately so the challenge creators can run analytics and take surveys afterwards about who has done what, how far people have gotten and how the whole thing has made them feel. This excites me MUCHOS. I am SO negative these days that I’m just looking forward to enjoying at least one thing in a day, even if I have to force myself. Just the thought of FOR ONCE living in the moment and not taking the small things that I enjoy for granted, not giving shit about what other people think or feel of me and just being...well, happy.
And that makes it sound like I’m constantly unhappy, which I have to continually explain to the people who don’t listen to me (yes, I’m looking at YOU), that this isn’t the case. Suffering from depression doesn’t just mean you’re a blanket misog who can't find joy in anything, but it does mean you struggle with it and it does mean you spend many days just wondering why on earth you bother with anything. You feel nothing at all, and that includes happiness and unhappiness.
I understand that this is difficult to understand for those who aren’t on the rollercoaster with me. And believe me, I want to explore the effects of my grey clouds on my relationships with others, but right now, I’m going to indulge in the selfishness I’ve allowed myself to be encompassed in and do things that >I< want to do, and to start, I’m going to be doing it for me.

Anyway, I want to REALLY have a proper crack from this moment on at finding happiness in the everyday, and positivity in the grey. I know this all seems a little cheesy, but fuck it, I haven’t got anything better to do and I haven’t got any other ideas up my sleeves. I want to find inspiration in things I haven’t noticed before and I want to invest more time in the activities and people I actually care about, rather than waste it on the negative ones I have been for the last few years, because they have NOT been making me happy. I need to learn to curb my enthusiasm for causing arguments with the people I love and stop getting irritated so easily.

Whatever, I just need to at least try do something to make things a even a little bit brighter around these parts, it’s got to be worth a shot...

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.