Anxious and Irrational

Anxiety is, by definition, a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. At least thats what the internet tells you. There is so much more that the internet fails to mention.

Anxiety is butterflies. Oh no, I’m not talking dainty little butterflies that shuffle around when you’re about to go on stage to perform, but butterflies that appear out of the blue and violently beat against the inside of your stomach. They gnaw and claw away relentlessly.

Anxiety is being drained of all energy because your overpowered mind won’t shut off to let you sleep. Its 5:04 AM, you’re coming up on 48 hours of no sleep and your eyes threaten to close but the voice in your head wont shut up. All you can think about is how you gave the cashier at the gas station today the wrong amount of change; she had to have thought you were stupid. It was 55¢, not 54¢, you idiot. No wonder you almost failed math in high school.

Anxiety is pushing away the ones that care the most about you, even as they try so hard to love and support you. Problem is, you simply cannot shut off that deceiving voice in the back of your mind saying, ‘they don’t love you’ and ‘they’re way too good for you’.

Anxiety is skipping class because you were six minutes late and it’s easier to not go then to have everyone’s eyes on you when you walk in mid-lecture. Two weeks later and you still can’t make yourself go into class, afraid your professer will laugh at the reason for your absence.

Anxiety is beating yourself up for something so little that you’re the only one that even remembers it happened. Your friendly neighbor said hi to you today but you said hello back too quietly and you’re certain she didn’t hear it. Instead of being rational and forgetting it happened, all you can think about is how much she must hate you. Now she must think you’re rude. She’ll never say hello to you again. She probably hates you. I would hate me too.

Anxiety is going to the doctors, getting asked a simple yes or no question, but before you can respond, sudden tears stream down your face with no utter explanation. The simple action of having a stranger focus on you is terrifying.

Anxiety is doing your hair, makeup, and putting on your favorite outfit, only to end up staying home. You would rather hide in your room away from everyone’s sight than to stress whether or not your makeup is intact through out the night.

Anxiety is meeting someone new but not even giving them the slightest chance to let them get to know you. They compliment your smile but all you can do is laugh it off and silently list off every little reason why someone would’t love you.

Anxiety is
by simple definition
feeling worried and uneasy
but the fact of the matter is
theres nothing fucking simple about it

 

biggest fears

When I was 8
I didn’t have a care in the world
my biggest fears were not getting enough playing time with friends and spiders in my bed

10 years later
and my list of fears have grown
to eating in front of people; wondering if I’m eating too fast, too slow, too much, too little
to talking to people; hoping I don’t stumble and speak in disarray
to constantly fearing I left my car unlocked, even after going back and forth to check

when I was 8
I remember running about with my best friend
giggling, seeing who could outrun the other

10 years later
and I sit next to my best friend
subduing eye contact, trying to put feelings into words
struggling to tell her what the voices in my head scream

when i was 8
I didn’t obesses over my appearance
I didn’t care whether I had messy tangled hair
nor did I care about each and every flaw of mine

10 years later
and I hate the mirror
hate the mirror for looking back at me with someone I don’t even recognize anymore
thats not me I yell
but I see the mirror say the same thing, move the same way
and it’s then I know I have become my biggest nightmare

when i was 8
I had flowers in my hair
and smiles from ear to ear

10 years later
I have a blade in my hand
and pills down my throat

when I was 8
I loved myself, i loved my life
but one year later
my first hateful thought

10 years later
I hated myself, I hated my life
one year later
I took my last breath.

myp

To Lexi & Michaela,

To my partners in crime,
I used to think that crying uncontrollably everyday was normal. Yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds, but it was my reality and I didn’t know any different. Almost five years later and that thought nearly makes me laugh. 14-year-old me was so innocent and unaware, but yet still so ready to give up on the world. Now, I’m not saying to laugh at all the young teens who cry themselves to sleep every night; that’s the last thing any of us should be doing. That said, I’m allowed to laugh at myself.
I laugh because in this present moment I am okay. I am better then okay. It has been an extremely long time since I have cried on a daily basis, and the last time I cut myself was my most recent hospitalization. And although it was less than six months ago, you both know how big of a deal this is for me.
As much as I wish that I will only feel better as time passes, all three of us know there is no guarantee. But fortunately, because of all the love and support that surrounds me, I’m making a vow to myself and to the two of you that I will never give up.
For years, I truly believed death would be the one and only thing that would set me free. Thankfully because of how much you both love and support me day in and day out, I no longer feel that way. You both have gone through hell and back for me, I will never be able to show how grateful I am for that (but at least let me try).

Lexi,
I remember the day we become best friends. I don’t even think we really said a word to each other, we just mindlessly took stupid selfies; and for whatever reason, we were practically inseparable everyday after that. The thing I love the most about you is how you constantly show me love through other ways then hugs and kisses. Anyone who knows you well enough knows you’re not very fund of touch, but your actions and words speak more than any hug will ever provide me. A perfect example of this would be the countless number of times you sat and listened to my big mouth go on and on, even when I was annoying the crap out of you.

Michaela,
We may not have had the smoothest start to our friendship, but the love you have shown me in the recent years covers any drama we dealt with in the beginning. I have never met someone in my life who wants to help every single person in this world like you do. And although that sometimes comes to bite you back, you never stay down for too long. You have shown me what true strength is, without you even knowing it. Not to mention, if I ever need any cuddles, I always have you to go to.

There are a million and one more things I could say about the both of you, but I know that I will have the rest of our lives to keep thanking you. I am so incredibly lucky to have not one, but two best friends to share my life with. Thank you for teaching me the meaning of loving someone unconditionally. Thank you for never leaving my side even when I tried desperately to push you away. Thank you for the laughter you have brought in my life. Most importantly, thank you for saving me.

With love, Melissa

Anxious for the future

I feel like ripping my own hair out right about now. I am so freaking frustrated. As time passes I get more and more of these anxious meltdowns about my future. Granted, I’ve always been worried about my future but now as I finish my last few general ed requirements for college, I don’t know my next step. I’ve told practically everyone I am studying to become a special education teacher but I’ve started to become unsure of that career path. I don’t know if I have become so unsure because of my depression and anxiety messing with my head or if I actually do not want to do that for the rest of my life. Thinking about that gets me in a freaking frenzy because I start to flip out thinking if I don’t want to be a teacher, what the hell else am I going to do? I’m untalented in just about everything and I’m not saying that for compliments or sympathy- I actually just suck at everything!!
But then on the other hand, if its my depression and anxiety simply messing with me, how the hell do I combat that? I just don’t know what to do. I’m at a loss and I see no way out. My parents tell me to stop worrying but they just don’t understand. I mentally and physically cannot stop worrying about it. It hits me at the most random times. I will just be sitting there and all the sudden my chest feels heavy and there isn’t a single thing I can do to prevent it. No matter how often I hear people telling me not to worry and to simply take it day by day, this panicking feeling won’t go away.

m.y.p

 

Therapy sucks

I’ve tried my fair share of therapists, none of them helped. Sitting in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar face clawing at me for more information isn’t exactly what I would call helpful. Last time I met with a therapist, I left in the midst of an anxiety attack that left me shaking and crying for hours on end. The lady seemed nice, but I get so anxious meeting with therapists and for some reason that day I just broke. This is one of many personal experiences that make me believe therapy sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I know therapy can be extremely beneficial for some and if it does help, more power to you! I honestly am a bit jealous when I hear how much it has helped some people. I wish it did the same for me.
I mean, maybe it takes longer for some to get used to, talking to strangers. Maybe I’m not trying my absolute hardest to let them in and allow them to see what I try so hard to hide from everyone around me. Maybe I just haven’t met the right therapist. There is a lot of maybes but not a lot of definites.
The reason I’m bringing up therapy is because I can feel myself crawling back into feelings and thoughts I’ve been trying to stay away from; the same thoughts and feelings that ended me up in the hospital just two months ago. I know I’m getting bad again and since I know this feeling all too well, I know that I need to do something about it. But unfortunately for me, simply knowing I need to do something usually isn’t enough to get myself to actually doing the action. Instead I end up either trying to vapidly distract myself or spend a ridicolous amount of time dwelling on what it is I need to do. You can call me lazy, trust me I get frustrated at myself at how much I procrastinate. But look at it from my perspective; if only you knew what goes on in my twisted mind.
So here I am, knowing I should give therapy another shot but I can’t actually bring myself to find another therapist, let alone make an appointment. My mind loves to tell me its easier to just lay in bed and not think about anything important. That’s apparently the only thing I’m good at- distracting myself from reality. I can only hope one day soon I gather enough motivation and courage to either figure out another way to help myself or just call a damn therapist.

myp

Before My Suicide Attempt

Here I am. Once again. Same god damn situation and same idiotic response. You would have thought I’d have learned by now. I dont even have any excuses this time. I simply know that I am making the same mistake again but at this point I dont care anymore. I’m so annoyed with myself.

Okay real fucking question- how the hell is everyone doing this? How is everyone waking up in the morning, going to class/work, hanging out with friends, going to bed, then repeating this every day. How is everyone simply continuing on with their life? I dont know how to fucking do this. I dont know how to fucking wake up and function. I feel like I’m living my life on repeat. I’m not doing anything new, I’m not doing anything important. I want to go out there and actually make a freakin difference but thats kind of a hard thing to do when my body is so determined to stay in bed all day overflowing with vicious thoughts.

Im absoluelty terrified that I am sitting here wasting my life away. I wake up in the morning, go to work, go see friends, go to class, go to sleep and then repeat. I love my friends to pieces and enjoy my job but is this it? Is this how life is supposed to be? Because I don’t get it. I dont understand how life is said to be such a precious and meaningful thing when so many of our lives are practically a boring sitcom on repeat. Maybe I think too much or maybe I expect too much out of life; but I can’t be the only god damn person that isn’t satisfied with this being life. Yes, I’m a dreamer but theres always some reality to my dreams. I imagine life to be a beautiful thing. Something that is filled with endless adventure, laughter, and happiness. Instead I’m living in a continuous cycle filled with unanswered questions, misty eyes and heartbreak- with only a tiny sliver of happiness. Will that sliver be enough?

myp

Aug. 16 2015

One year ago on the 16th- this was one of my bittersweet goodbyes. myp

 

—–,

I will never be able to fully express how amazing you are as a person and how grateful I am to have known you. You have kept me breathing for a much longer time then I myself thought was possible and I can’t thank you enough. As you know, depression thrives on loneliness. Depression loves to make us so miserable and so unmotivated. We became so lonely even we had each other. That’s what killed me. Knowing I had my family and friends like you but still feeling unbearably lonely. I just couldn’t keep going. I’ve fought to stay alive for so long but I no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel. So I’m sorry. Sorry we built this friendship only to have me knock it down. But never forget how thankful I am to have met you. Thank you for always listening, thank you for never judging. Most importantly, thank you for always being there for me and laughing at things we didn’t know how else to handle. Your willingness to laugh at the serious things with me will forever be cherished. I hate to say goodbye but I must. So thank you, once again, for everything. I love you more than you will ever know and I want you to fight so hard to keep living. Don’t end up a statistic like me and end it all. You are worth so much more than what you think. The strength you possess is remarkable, I know you will be able kill your demons and find happiness one day. Don’t ever stop fighting. I love you.

melissa

My distractions are no longer distracting

It’s so easy to busy myself during the day with my friends and my job, but when the sun goes down and I’m left all alone, I can no longer keep up the barricade holding back my ever so invasive thoughts. The walls I worked so hard to hold during the day come crashing down and with it comes my mind. And because I have no concrete explanation for my depression and anxiety, I feel like I have no other option then to distract myself.  Yes, I know that’s not the most logical option. I know that the better option would be to face my fears and fight all my urges and shitty feelings. But my mental illnesses are getting the best of me and are completely tearing me down. I’m losing this fight. I am losing miserably. So don’t scold me for not trying harder, because me trying to distract myself is trying. Distracting myself is the only reason I am alive right now. The shitty thing is, my distractions are no longer distracting, and they haven’t been for a while. Even surrounding myself with loved ones or going to my job that I love is no longer providing me comfort. I am tired of fighting this and am yearning for a way out.

myp

Tattoos!!

 

 

Three years ago on a lonely night I found a band called Twenty One Pilots. I’m sure you have heard of them- they have gained a huge following in the past year and while a little bitter(as many old fans are!!), I am beyond proud of them. Tyler and Josh have worked so hard for this and deserve every bit of attention they are receiving. Not only are they genuine people, but they are amazing artists. I could go on for hours about how great they are, but that’s not the point of this post.

Like I said, I found their music one particularly hard night and I am and always will be eternally grateful for that. I can honestly say Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun have been a huge part of why I am still here today. I have never felt so at peace and understood while listening to music until I heard their songs. I have spent countless days and nights listening to each and every song they have ever written, hanging on to every meaningful lyric. That’s where my first tattoo comes in- “the sun will rise and we will try again”. This particular line is from their song ‘Truce’. It’s pretty straight forward; as hard as it will get, I have to remember the night will pass and when the sun comes up, there will hope for a better day. I know it’s not ideal to always think there will be a tomorrow, because that frankly isn’t realistic. There will not always be a tomorrow. But when I’m on the verge of a breakdown with tears streaming down my face, the only hope I have is for a better tomorrow. With these words permanently on my forearm, I will always be reminded that no matter what happens I have to keep trying.

The second tattoo I got done is located by my right ankle. This tattoo is actually covering up a stick n poke I gave myself two years back. For those who don’t know what a stick n poke is- its basically a homemade tattoo done with a needle and India Ink. I did a pretty awful job and while it didn’t bother me too much, it is nice that its gone. This tattoo is also related to Twenty One Pilots; it’s the bands logo. And although there have already been a handful of people asking me why I have an oddly shaped ‘H’ on my ankle, I know what it stands for and I absolutley love it.

myp

 

 

 

5AM

Its 5:48AM- my eyelids are heavy, threatening to shut, and I want nothing more than to drift into a peaceful slumber, but my racing mind is keeping me awake. Its so unbelievably frustrating because I constantly feel the need to write when my mind races, but when my thoughts are vigorously coursing in and out of my mind faster than I can blink, I am unable to write what I want. I never even know where to began when there are this many thoughts intertwining with each other.

I guess the one thing that I am certain of, is how fucking pathetic I am. I CAN’T FUNCTION. I have a pile of homework that I’m drowning in and an almost embarrassing amount of dirty laundry that needs to be cleaned asap. But like usual, I either end up crying till my head pounds or I try to do everything in my power to procrastinate until the very last second (or both-in today’s case). Which overall makes everything worse because I’m left dwelling on every aspect of my life and focusing on all the shit that I haven’t done yet. Despite knowing that I’m simply running away from my problems, I still go through each day trying my best to distract myself with anything and everything. I’ll go on a drive, roam around places I’ve never been, go shopping for shit I don’t need, etc. Distracting myself seems to be the only way I can get through days without breaking down; so if that is what enduring the pain costs, I’m all in.

But inevitably, no matter how long I can distract myself from the truth, reality always comes back to slap me HARD in the face. It leaves me to sit alone and cry for hours, violent thoughts building off of one another to the point where every dark thought joins together to become a big mess. I can picture the clutter of my introspections perfectly when I close my eyes.

Just to give you an idea; picture a blank white canvas. The white surface represents peace and calmness. Now picture your own hand beginning to move, reaching for the marker. Your conscious begs you to stop, to put that marker down. But without control, you start one scribble, then two, then three, and before you know it there is barely any of the white surface left. Each black scribble represents an intrusive thought. An example of intrusive thoughts that I have had, would be anything from worrying about something embarrassing I did years ago that no one, but myself, even remembers to something bigger such as gloomy thoughts of suicide. With each thought that collects, peace and hope drift away. Darkness and sadness fill the empty spaces while at the same time creating more. Then all I am left with is even more pain than I began with. It’s a vicious cycle of feeling like shit to distracting myself and feeling okay and then back to feeling like shit. I’m way too familiar with this image and the worst part is that I feel like I have absolute no control over it.

myp