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Just call me Little Miss Not-So-Uplifting

Aug 18, 2014 - 0 comments






Everything is exhausting and unpleasant.

Now I've gone to enough therapy to know that when you're depressed, you're supposed to find something good to look forward to, to be happy about. You're meant to latch onto that and focus on the good things in your life rather than the bad ones. And that's what I did. For a long time, I've been looking forward to a concert that I was going to go to. When I became really suicidal again, I made a pact with myself that I couldn't kill myself before the concert (and then the plan was to find something else so as to make the same deal and refrain from suicide). Now, because of a long, complicated story that I shan't bore you with, I can't go to the concert. And I know it's 'just a silly concert' and I shouldn't be so wound up about it, but I lost it. I completely lost it. It was my thread of happiness, and it was chopped in half. I lost my reason to be happy, my reason to live, my last little ray of light.

I ended up self-harming worse than I have done in a long while. It took a lot of self-restraint to stop myself from attempting suicide right there and then. I'm not quite sure why I snapped so badly. I mean sure, I'd have expected myself to be very upset. To the point of suicide? No. Then again, I have to remind myself that I didn't want to commit suicide merely because of a concert, I wanted to commit suicide because I am severely depressed, and the concert was just the last straw.

I swear I'm not a brat and I wouldn't usually react like this just because I couldn't go to a concert. It's not even really about the concert, to some extent. It's mostly just because it was my last bit of happiness and positivity, and it was obliterated. And I was filled with anger, which was soon replaced by an overwhelming numbness that enveloped my entire body. I was suddenly so hollow and empty again. I should be used to the sensation by now, but I'm not.

Agh I can't remember where I was going with this. In any case, I'm still feeling terrible. I don't know what to do to turn things around again. Or if I even want to. That's the worst thing about chronic depression. It becomes a comfort to you, even though you hate it. I can't remember what life is like without depression and anxiety. It feels like a surreal concept to me.

My skin was so nice before. There weren't any scars, just faint marks from who-knows-how-long-ago. But now it's blemished again. Even when I'd mildly self-harmed recently, they didn't really leave scars, and healed up really fast. These ones though, look like they're staying put for a while. Though I'm not happy about it, I can't help but feel I should care more about the fact that I'll have them and have to hide them from everyone again, etc. I just don't care that much at the moment. Maybe I'll care more tomorrow, when I get dressed and have to wear clothes accordingly. For now though, I feel reasonably apathetic about the whole thing. Maybe it's the emptiness feeling. Probably.

I hope you've had a better week that I have.
Much love,

[insert witty title here]

Aug 10, 2014 - 2 comments

I'm afraid it hasn't been a very good week, medically/emotionally speaking (oh how they are so intricately intertwined!). I feel that this is largely due to my realisation of how much work I need to do to pass NCEA (secondary education certificate here in New Zealand) Level 2, and how difficult, if not impossible, it is going to be to finish it all this year. I very much would like to finish it this year, as I don't want to start next year (my last year of secondary education, if all goes to plan) on the back foot.

And it's been that time of year again -- the time of year where the school gives students less than two weeks to choose their subjects for the following year. So that was stressful. I don't think they realise how hard it is for someone like me, who survives by living completely day-to-day, to make decisions that'll impact not just tomorrow or the next week but essentially the rest of my entire life. It's hugely intimidating, to say the least. I manage to survive by ignoring the very existence of life after today. If I think about the future, everything goes to pits. And I had to think about the future. So everything went to pits.

There have been more contributors to stress levels, but that's the main one, really. It just became too much and that's probably why I fell to pieces. I've had several panic attacks and just generally not really been in a good head space.

But recently I have discovered that I might want to go into elderly care as a career choice. So it's good that that's there as a sort of starting point. I'm still passionate about my film-making and theatre, but career-wise, it's just not very stable or secure at all. I can always do that in my down time.

So that's about where this journal finishes. The first of its kind! I'll try not to drawl on for too long, haha.

~ Zoë

PS: I have only very recently (as in, this week) been formally diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but have been battling it a long time, perhaps as long as three years. l am still battling ongoing depression and generalised anxiety disorder, both of which have been around for (at the time of this writing) a little more than two and a half years. It hasn't been an easy road by any account, with suicidal issues and eating problems that I'm still facing, and it's a long and difficult road ahead, but I'm hoping that eventually I'll get to where I want to be, Wherever that is.
My heart goes out to each and every one of you. I know everyone is fighting their own battles and confronting their own demons, and my strength goes out to you in every second of the war. May we all rest easy someday <3