Emptiness

I haven’t written anything for a while and it seems to have had the exact effect I assumed it would on me. Writing, however good or bad I am at it, serves as therapeutic escape for me. 
I have had various up and down moments over the last weeks, but if I’m honest most of them have been downs.

I still don’t have a job.

I am still in debt.

I have lost no weight.

I still have issues with anxiety about going out.

I still have trust issues with my boyfriend.

I still find it hard to motivate myself to study.

I still haven't managed to tick anything off my ‘To do’ list which I've had for over a month.

I’m finding my life increasingly confusing as I flit from one mood to the next. One day I will be uber excited and proactive in my job search, the next I won't get out of bed until 1pm, and not get dressed all day. One day I feel carefree and un-intimidated by any of the issues my life consistently throws at me, and the next day, the smallest misunderstanding will literally have me in bits. I have days when I am filled with an arrogant, confidence where I believe I can take on the world and AM in a position of power and can do all the things I dream about, but they are few and far between recently and they are punctuated with self doubt and worry. I can't lead a normal life when one day I want to go out and tell the world how happy I am and that my life is going to change but then next I want to hide under the duvet and am overly insecure and hyper sensitive to everything anyone says to me.

It causes tension. It’s causing arguments.

I don't like myself very much but I AM sick of feeling this way. I’m sure people think I enjoy this self indulgent feeling sorry for myself but I really don’t. I can see the person I want to be – it’s like she’s right in front of me, funny, smart and warm – but I can't bring her to life. I can't find joy in the simplest things, and my confidence drops with every day that passes and I don’t fulfil my potential. I KNOW I can do this Open University module, but I just don't do it. I know I can be a social butterfly but I avoid it, I know I can be healthy but instead I choose cakes and crisps and sitting, I know I’d be happier if I sat and read but instead I waste away on the internet until family guy comes on at 11pm, I know if I write every day, I’ll eventually hone that skill and write something I like, but instead I just think about it. I just think about all these things and NOTHING motivates me to do them.

I look in the mirror and I’m not happy. Not with my exterior, and absolutely not the interior. I feel like I need a personality overhaul, but because my moods and emotions are literally all over the place, it’s never going to be possible. I don’t know how to control these feelings, I try to take medication but I do feel like although it takes the edge of my anxiety and my sharp, intense, pull-myself-apart moods, it takes away my passion for things. I feel stagnant. I feel empty. I feel unable to feel passion or motivation towards things. I can't sleep. I don't want to eat but I do. Everything ceases, which I understand is a good thing when it comes to my stress, anxiety and low mood, but it’s a terrible thing when it comes to my productivity and thirst for...well, anything. I seem incapable of forming opinions on anything that is important to me, and if I do find something I can focus on long enough to form an intelligent opinion, nine times out of ten it will only take someone else’s opinion on that same subject for my mind to change. I’m fickle and unreliable in my thought processes.

I can’t decide what the best thing to do is. I don’t want to be in limbo but I know the longer I stay off medication or any active method of elevating my mood the worse I will get. I will force arguments out of nothing and I will continue to see the bad in people and situations that don’t warrant it.

There are so many words floating through my mind at the moment that I want to express, but my self esteem doesn’t allow me to. I question every thought I have. I know there are plenty of people out there who feel and think the same as me, but I can’t find anyone to relate to. I haven't found anyone I can talk to openly and honestly about how I’m feeling without putting up some sort of front, some sort of mask that hides the real me and the real feelings I have. I’d love to be able to help people in a similar situation, I’d love to find that one person who I can talk to without fear of what they’ll think, without the fear that they’ll back stab and betray me, but I really don’t think they exist.

Lonely Dinner

So I’ve spent the first two hours of being awake today looking for and applying for jobs I KNOW I don't want, won't enjoy and probably won't stick at. It’s frustrating. I’m not particularly good at administration and I certainly don’t enjoy it, but it’s the only thing I have any palpable experience in. That and a customer facing role where if I know what I’m talking about, I know I can blag my way through and probably succeed if I don’t let my insecurities eat me alive.

People have this perception of me as being a people person. I somehow manage to be confident and warm towards people I don’t know, and have been known to crack a smile out of the most stubborn of people. I have no idea how this happens, because on the inside I am usually dying a little bit with every word that comes out of my mouth. I dread it, every second I have to talk to someone I feel like curling up into a ball and rolling away. It’s very easy to not be alone but feel very lonely. I feel this almost every day and it’s very difficult to explain to people who think you’re an honest, open, warm human being.

Suffice to say it’s not fun feeling like you’re the only person in a room full of people. And the people aren’t bad. The people sometimes even give a shit about how you feel and what you think, but a lot of the time, the barricade you put up and the mask you hide behind is SO good, cleverly concealing all those lies and hidden agendas you have, that no one notices you haven’t said a word worth listening to for years.
You shouldn’t burden these people with such problems. They don’t understand when their go to person for happiness is feeling less than stellar. It’s a lose-lose situation most of the time. I go round in circles thinking that I can fake my way through certain social situations, and usually I do. But there are times when people notice, and I have ALWAYS, ALWAYS run away in those situations. Rather than telling people what’s wrong or how I feel or if I’ve messed up, made a mistake or am just feeling slightly down, I would rather give the illusion that I’m just busy and have no time to chat. I realise that’s not fair on them, and I am only just starting to realise it’s not really fair on me, either.

I don’t know what’s happening to my body recently, but after a few weeks of not being able to sleep, I am now all of a sudden sleeping EXCESSIVELY. I slept for about ten hours last night and I’m STILL tired. The effects of the Sertraline are actually really frustrating. They have definitely made a positive difference, but I’m still stressed and I am making myself more stressed thinking about the things I have to do today. I have to go up to town tonight and I am DREADING IT. The thought of doing the journey that is, not what I’m doing once I’m there. The thought of getting on the train and tubes are genuinely frightening to me at the moment, I feel very, very uneasy but I HAVE to do this, if I back out now I will never forgive myself and I know the people involved will never forgive me either.

Today I’m going for dinner with three girls I have known for a little under two years, and who I think very highly of indeed. They are lovely, funny, clever girls and as a group we seem to get on really well, and individually we get on really well too. The thing is, I’ve spent the best part of six months avoiding them, with no real reason other than to hide away from the mistakes I made regarding my business, and I can sense their frustration with me. Back in March, I went all the way to Camden to go out for Trudy’s birthday and couldn’t get in to the place she was at so I went to a pub around the corner and misspelled the name of it in a text so they spent all night looking for a pub that didn't exist and I got drunk and then my battery died. It was freezing and raining and I was utterly mortified at myself for the mistake, but rather than explain it rationally, I avoided the questions and messages and phone calls, until it died down and I could get away with not discussing it.

When tragedy hit my family (I use that term loosely, as I no longer count my father or any of his relations ‘family’) Trudy was there, offering her support and shoulder to cry on – but I never took that opportunity. I ran and hid away. The same thing happened when I started missing appointments at work and Egita asked if I was ok... I didn’t respond to her and I instead stopped all access for others to be able to post things on my facebook wall, for fear of someone posting something someone else would see and pull me up on. I don’t know if that makes sense, but at the time, it seemed like the easiest option for me and I spent the next few months with my head buried in the sand.
When I look through their facebook profiles now, I can see I’ve missed out on so much. Trudy is in a lovely relationship and seems happy, which makes me SO happy I could burst because she is the one person in this world that I think really deserves it. Egita managed to find someone to carry on her business with her and seems to be thriving in both her career and her studies, and Zindzi... well; she is just the icing on the cake. Beautiful, stylish, caring and kind, Zindzi is the archetypal wonder-woman. There’s something about her that oozes calm and she is a welcome light in the darkness I bring to the table in this somewhat dysfunctional group. It’ll be the first time we’ve seen each other since April last year, and I have no idea if they’ve met up without me or how much contact everyone else has been in.

These girls don’t know it, but they gave me faith in friendships. They already have their own lives going on, with their own groups of friends and their own little cliques that I will never be a part of – but the fact that they have invited me to be part of their lives on a small scale, and that they STILL are willing to see and spend time with me after the shitty way I’ve treated them is something I am eternally grateful for, I don’t deserve it, and they don’t realise what it means to me. I know all this sounds terribly dramatic and over the top, perhaps it is. But it’s just how I feel right this second. The deafening silence I’ve surrounded myself with over the past few months has done nothing but hinder me and tonight I am going to take my chance to explain myself fully, openly and honestly to these three people, with the small hope that they might understand it a little bit better. It’s a MASSIVE jump for me, talking about depression, anxiety and the triggers that cause them.
These are people whose opinions and thoughts I care desperately about and I feel like I’ll be putting a HUGE part of myself out there, in their hands and only they can decide whether to hold on to it or drop it. I wouldn’t blame them if it was the latter, but I am hoping and praying that it’s the former.

Grey Today

Today is a day I don't feel particularly good. I don’t know why. It could be the grey skies, it could be the frustration of my internet dropping constantly, it could be the bad mark I got on my last uni TMA, or it could be the impending birthday I have looming ever closer.

Whatever it is, today I feel like I’m taking two steps backwards and I want to start thinking about how I can combat this, and to do that I need to figure out, if I can, where it’s come from. So here is a list of things that I’m thinking about A LOT that are bugging me and could be possible triggers for today’s anxiety –

• Not being able to get to the gym (Rachael’s injury).
• The Internet not working or, worse – working intermittently.
• Reading my tutors FAIR comments about my last assignment that was less than average work.

I think that’s it, today, actually. I don’t know why I’m letting those things get to me so much. I’ve been a bag of panicky nerves all day though, and it’s making the thought of going out later seem REALLY unappealing. The internet not working is annoying, but when I think about it, it’s the only reason I started writing this post, and it could be the contributing factor to getting some other stuff done. Stuff that I otherwise would put off until the very last minute like usual because I’ve spent all day convincing myself that I am doing enough to find a job or improve my life by staring blankly at all the open tabs on my screen. Ugh.

Poor Rachael has slipped a disc in her back, so is out of action for a little while. I could probably get to the gym and get let in by Joe or maybe Mel but they would have to dictate the times and I am slightly nervous about getting caught out, to be honest. Also, with the internet not working this would be the IDEAL opportunity to go out for a run, or at the very least do some P90X training whilst I have the place to myself. But what is stopping me? It’s not ALL laziness.

Lastly; my TMA. It’s my own fault, I didn’t pick up my books AT ALL since TMA 02 and I was so smug with my last result that I guess I didn’t think I needed to. Then it got later and later and I panicked and pulled 1000 words totally out of my arse the day before it needed handing in. This was stupid. I got 59 out of 100. This is made up out of 22 marks out of 50 for the first part and 37 marks out of 50 for the second. I realise this isn’t TERRIBLE given the stupid time frame I gave myself AND the fact I had done NO study, but it just is not good enough, for me. People do NOT realise this about me, but I am a perfectionist. This is the reason I do not put effort into things I don’t believe I can’t do well – because if I attain anything less than top marks, I see it is a failure. It’s the reason I pull stupid faces in photos too; I would rather pull a silly face and look stupid, than try and pull a nice one and still look stupid. I apply this in almost everything I do, which is why I approach things either very cautiously or very gung-ho and without proper research. It’s something I’ve always done and it’s why I always disappoint myself.

That is disappointing to me. I don’t know where the secret lies in feeling better about these types of things. Sertraline is certainly taking the edge off my rage fuelled moods and teary outbursts – but that doesn’t tell me WHY. Why do I feel sick when I think about leaving the house? Why am I twitching my leg uncontrollably? Why am I feeling chest pains just THINKING about doing some studying?

I don’t know where this shit comes from but I want to punch it in the face. I am so, so sick of this feeling.

WEIGHT A MINUTE

Being on Sertraline has definitely decreased my stress levels and going to the gym (a total of four times in a week and a half – hoorah) has increased my hope at getting back to an acceptable weight.

I have ALWAYS had issues with my appearance and with my weight. I can remember as far back as early primary school when I was the only girl with boobs and I tried to strap them down, utterly mortified at being slightly bigger than my stick figure friends or at that time, simply not being a boy because I liked playing football and I was the only girl who was any good at it.
When I got to secondary school it was even worse, with a massive increase in the amount of people who noticed my chest, it was like a running joke in the first year – I think some people actually thought my name was ‘boobs’ because that’s what I was addressed as by most of the members of the opposite sex for a long time, until the prettier girls started growing their own weapons of attraction of course, and then I was just ‘one of the lads with tits’.
I remember being very impressionable at one point and wanting one of those tasteless, gaudy, awful tribal symbols tattooed on my lower back. I also remember being told by my tattoo laden father, not that it was unattractive, or I was too young (I was 14 at the time), or that it would hurt or that I’d regret it, but that simply “Errr I think you’re a bit chubby for that, why don’t you lose some weight first and then it will look nicer”.
I imagine that’s when I started hiding the food I was eating and throwing it back up later. I think that’s when the grey cloud settled in for good.  I have diaries and diaries full to the brim of self hatred, food and exercise regimes, calorie counting... I even went to the trouble of hand-drawing a graph and pie-chart WEEKLY of what my weight and measurements were saying. Thinking about food and my weight took up a THOUSAND percent of my time.

I have been through the yo-yo weight game enough times now to know for certain that being two stone lighter won't make me any happier, won't change my situations, won't increase my motivation and certainly won't give me the personality overhaul that I need. But what it will give me is a small sense of accomplishment and that is something I rarely achieve. I am a perpetual avoider. I can start things with gusto and steam ahead with plans and goals and ambitions, however small or large, but I almost NEVER finish anything. I’m determined this year to finish my Open University module, and not even concentrate TOO much on the actual mark I get. I need to get it out of my head that I deserve to be getting 80%+ or distinctions with the lack of work I put in. If I can just manage to see the whole thing through to completion AND get some sort of mark, it will make a huge difference to me. The same goes with losing weight, because this will be the first time I'm actually putting effort into it.

In the past, I have flown up the scales to a horrifying 12 stone (how hilariously low is that when I talk about how much it impacted my life?) when I was really too young to be that, and slid back down to a teeny 8 and a half when I was too old. Now, there’s nothing WRONG with either of those weights, in reality they are at neither end of the scale, but for me, personally, I wasn’t healthy at either of them. I like being curvy, I don't want to be thin. But I hate the feeling of clothes that fit me perfectly six months ago now won’t go anywhere near my ballooning thighs. At 12 stone I was uncomfortable in my skin, let alone my clothes, I was out of breath, cripplingly self conscious and filling my body with all things sweet and unsavoury. It affected my skin as well which at the time was riddled with acne, so it became a vicious cycle of feel shit, eat shit, feel shit, eat shit, etc.
I was young when this was the case and after various counselling sessions and eating disorder ‘cures’, I found myself in a job where I woke up too early to have breakfast, ran around all day, had half an hour for lunch and would usually go out for a drink after work. I also preferred to spend my money on cigarettes than food, so my weight plummeted obscenely low to 8 and a half stone, which again, is not particularly small, but it is FOR ME. I wasn’t built to be skinny. I have an hourglass frame, which when empty, looks just as awful as it does when it’s overflowing. My ribs stuck out, I had saggy boobs, no bum, my arms looked like twigs and my watch was dangling from my wrist. I even lost a beautiful bracelet that I adored, because no more links could be removed and it was STILL too large. Although my cheekbones were chiselled, my skin was grey and my eyes were black. I thought it was great, I could finally sit down without a roll of flab in sight, but my friends and family were worried about me. My BMI dropped, my energy levels dropped, my mood dropped along with my concentration and focus which led me to start being overly emotional and making mistakes at work. I hadn’t overtly tried to be this slim, it just naturally happened. It wasn’t attractive, and most importantly, it wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t leading a healthy lifestyle and so my body wasn’t responding in a healthy way.
I stopped working for a bit and went back to studying, which meant that, again, totally naturally, I put on a stone and looked a lot better. However, when I stopped smoking at 20 for two years, my weight shot up from nine and a half stone to about ten and a half, and whilst I realise now that that weight is fine, at the time I was mortified. I had a boyfriend who was cheating on me and who the world thought was the most beautiful man to grace the planet, none of my clothes fit me, and I was in a job where everyone judged you on your hair/clothes/looks rather than your skills and I was being undermined and bullied by a girl who looked like Jennifer Aniston. I started smoking again PURELY for the hunger suppressing that smoking brought to me, sure that my life would improve if I lost the weight. What a disgusting thought.

Disgusting it may have been, it worked. I lost weight again and found myself back at 9 and a half stone, and although my health and skin was shot to shit, my body looked amazing (if I do say so myself). By this time I had a different boyfriend, who didn't really care about my looks, but HATED smoking and had been a fitness instructor in a previous lifetime. This made me go insane with conflict. I gave up smoking again, not totally because of him, he never MADE me do it, but I just smoked less around him to impress him and it drove me insane with cravings so I would snap and be moody. So I thought I might as well give up, plus my skin may well improve.

Suffice to say, I got a little fitter, but the weight eventually piled back on.

Things are slightly different now; I have the contraceptive implant in my left arm which mucks around with my hormones, as well as the Sertraline coursing through my body, doing its business with my brain and metabolism. This is making it VERY easy for me to put weight on and VERY difficult for me to lose it just by sacrificing a few packets of crisps a week.
Because I’m not working at the moment, this means I spend a large portion of my day sitting in one spot, trawling through the internet wishing I was somebody else, and consuming so many calories that I’m otherwise, just not shifting.

I know this seems trivial and shallow to some, but with the battles I've had and the skewed view I have on my own body image and self esteem, this really, really does something to me. I don't seem to understand how my boyfriend can still find me attractive, even though J has absolutely never judged me on how I look. It makes me uncomfortable in all my clothes, to the point I sometimes don't bother getting dressed for the day and it just makes it difficult for me to leave the house sometimes. I want this to change, I want to not care so much about how I look naked and how my clothes fit me and to just feel comfortable being me, whatever weight, but I can't. I have no idea where it all stems from initially, and I have no idea how to move forward with it. I'm self deprecating enough without having added worries about J leaving me for a slimmer, fitter, tighter, more agile thing.

When I read that back I feel pathetic.

STEP IN THE GYM.

So far, it’s been quite amusing. Each time I’ve gone, I’ve really not wanted to. I’ve thought up a thousand excuses to get out of it, but I HAVE gone. And each time I’ve gone, I’ve left feeling better. Alright, it’s not glamorous – I’m red, sweaty and aching and I still feel guilty that my family and friends are working and I’m getting free gym time to work on something that shouldn’t be a priority in my life, but I AM losing weight. I have lost three pounds in a week and a half and I haven’t changed my diet TOO much. I’m spending time with Rachael, who I haven’t really ever spent that much time with on a one on one basis and I REALLY enjoy her company. I’ve so far met some nice people, and even though there are women there that ordinarily would make me want to hide away and fade into the background, I can see that no one really pays attention to anyone else. Everyone is there to achieve something; whether it’s losing two stone like me or feeding the obsession with the body beautiful, we all have a goal and we’re not too concerned with anyone else’s.

Its super early days, and I know it’s going to take hard work, focus and whatnot, which I’m certainly not known for. So far though, it’s making me feel, not better, but just better than I was. Things somehow seem brighter and not so grey after a workout. I'll always have pizza days and lazy days, but I DO undoubtedly feel better when I've done my crunches, squats, and walks and not eaten a week’s worth of bread in one day.

I’m going to carry on for as long as I can, recording my progress and taking it step by step, pound by pound and see what happens. I know what I want from it, but when the dark days overtake me it’s VERY difficult to fight my way through it, but I’m going to give it a decent shot.

Inexplicably, I am sitting in Starbucks again having not turned up to another interview, again.

Job hunting is fine when you’re behind the comfort of your screen and bigging yourself up, adjusting your CV and covering letter to make you sound more ‘together’ than you actually are. It normally is also fine up until the morning of the interview, should you be lucky enough to get chosen for one, until it actually comes to leaving the house.
For me, this is the crux of the issue when it comes to job interviews, getting there. 

So, recently, I have been invited to a total of six interviews, only one did I manage to turn up for.
Reading that last sentence REALLY pains me. It makes me so angry and so embarrassed at myself for being so stupid. I can only really tell you the reason for not attending one of them, which would probably have ended up being the best one as it was for the least amount of hours (12) and for the most amount of wage hourly (£20), and it just sounded like the EXACT kind of thing I can do and do well, but I didn’t go and that’s because I had a mammoth unexpected hangover. The rest of them, well, I just sent myself into oblivion and lost myself in a fog of denial.

I really like to think, if I had gone to each of these job interviews I would have at least been offered one of them, and if I had I obviously would have jumped at accepting because my financial situation is absolutely critical right now. In fact, just thinking about that particular area of my life has sent my anxiety utterly soaring.
Anxiety is a thing that is so difficult to explain to others, who are yet to experience it. I have no doubt I have been experiencing it all my life without properly taking notice of how it’s been manifesting – everyone gets nervous about answering the phone, right?
For me, it is short, sharp bursts of intense adrenaline shooting up and down my body making my chest feel like it’s about to explode, I usually get shaky and warm, sometimes I sweat and I find it almost impossible swallow or to speak without a quiver in my voice.
This can happen just before I step into a new building, meet a new person, pick up the phone, make a phone call, type an email or look in the mirror. I’ve noticed recently, after having made some more disastrous choices about my role as a ‘business owner’ that these have felt less like bursts and more like extended periods of continual upheaval in my heart.

Having only been on my medication a week, I can see it’s helped physically. It’s almost like my body fights itself, like it WANTS to be anxious but there’s a wall my anxiety can't burst through. It’s still there, but it seems easier to swallow.
I can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Should I be lucky enough to land a job in the next few weeks, how am I going to cope with gulping down my fear and holding in my nerves while trying to learn about a new role and impress people I don’t care about? That thought alone is enough to put me off even looking anymore.
I’m not very good at anything in particular; I don’t enjoy anything in particular. There is no specific career path I want really, and there isn’t one that I can see myself staying in. Don’t get me wrong, people say at 26 this is still young and perfectly normal, there are millions of people my age going through the EXACT same thing, but they are still in their bottom rung position hating life or making waves and paving the way for a heart attack before 40. I don’t want to be a part of either of those lives, but I can’t seem to de-compartmentalise my thoughts for long enough to make sense of things.

The thought of sitting at a desk, welcoming people to an office and serving them tea, coffee etc until my smile freezes my face hurts me. I don’t know why. What I really WANT right now is a job I can be alone in. I don't care how boring it is, how mind numbing or even easy it is. I just want to sit in a room, be it at home or somewhere else, by myself, without having to talk to anyone. What job can I have that has zero communication? Is there such a role? Does it exist? If there is one, I want it.

I can’t bare being around people at the moment. Even my friends, people who care about me and seemingly are worried about me; I just don’t want to talk to them. I feel exactly the same way with my family and my boyfriend at the moment too. All I want to do each day is curl up in a ball and get through, wasting away from one precious minute to the next. And with that, how am I expected to get a job and keep it? How am I expected to get up every morning and force myself into a situation that I don’t belong in?
I know I NEED to do this, there’s simply no way my life can continue the way it is, the guilt I place upon myself because the burden I am on my family is too great, and the weight of heart every time my poor mum comes home from the job she hates breaks me.

It’s funny, not having a job makes me feel worthless, but then the jobs I have had have made me feel worthless, and now, I think I am too worthless for the interviews I’ve been offered. When this cycle will end, I don’t know, but it needs to end soon or I could find myself in hotter water than ever before, and because of my avoidance personality traits, no one will ever know until my world comes toppling down around me and I cannot hide anymore.

Its funny how I think I’m too good for jobs that pay minimum wages, but not good enough for jobs that would pay me more. I won't consider applying for a job that pays less than £10 an hour because I NEED to earn more, but I also don’t put any effort into jobs that come with more responsibility (and therefore pays more) because of my absolute crippling self doubt – does that make sense? Am I totally alone in feeling like this?
I’ve never really properly signed on either because of my anxiety about going there and admitting that I am not only jobless, but worthless too, which brings me exactly back to my first point.

I can feel my anxiety rising again, perhaps it’s the small coffee I had, perhaps it’s my continual self deprecating thought processes about working and making more mistakes and not being very good at anything.

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.