scramble scramble... ! oh shit nearly fell off the bed...leans over and...
aha! Sorted, now time to write. Bliss.
There are always words going around my head like some catherine wheel which won't go off. It keeps spin spin spinning and never getting quiet. My head is one of those things which can be a burden and gift-without it I wouldn't be me now and I quite like my life now, I wouldn't be me otherwise.
Last year was agony. I spent this last weekend half in agony and half in pleasure of happiness-finally, with someone as well who makes it right. It's a relief, a comfort, a knowing-the reassurance all along which confirms gut instincts-they are in your gut for a reason! It's so nice to be a part of something which isn't worthless energy. All for nothing now and I feel like i've lost out, but only in my mind. A life living for someone elses insecurities and developing my own.
Our experiences structure the way we think, there are people who remark on my attitude-I know full well if I didn't have that-I'd squalor. There have been times when I have been sooooooooo blind, I disgust myself at being so stupid, and that is my woe right now. Cunt.
Now, I just want to be left alone. All bad can go and fuck itself. The ironic part, we fuck the bad-we make situations as they are and we make them bad, our minds make them bad. The situations we get ourselves into, all that makes them bad is yourself; our thoughts, our guilt, our anger. We make particular situations bad and we make other situations happy. After all not every pleasure is the same for everyone else.
The things i'm excited about... It's finally come to the time when I can move in with one of my best friends, we have chosen an area away from where I am now and I'm so excited to start a fresh. Too many heavy grotesque memories here-they only scrub the good ones away.
I'm involved in a relationship which finally I can feel good about myself in. A love over three years denied. My instincts have always been right.
Then, there are those moments. The ones I had this weekend. Ones where I could cut off my arm and forget my lungs and see a thousand things. Those moments where all seems like death and pain and destruction. It's the ugliest world I see, this sickness, this-self torture.
It's like bleeding eyes, bleeding mind, living a death as everything becomes about screaming silently and treating everything you love with detest. You treat what you love badly because you strive so much to get happy, everything has a fault to pick on and all you want it to do is improve. You want to take yourself away and shut yourself off from the world incase you ruin everthing else around you and that would be worse and probably the thing to kill you off, to kill yourself off. If you can't love you then you can't love another and the life of no love ain't worth living at all. And i've been involved in that. Both ways. Two people doing the same to another, it really isn't nice.
I don't regret, I just get rid. You could say I could have got rid earlier-but then that wouldn't have been giving my instincts a chance which always said, there was hope. But who was I kidding, only me! Only myself and my foolish thoughts for one to see what I have and still feel about everything that surrounds me. It isn't all ugly yet as much as I make it that way. The every day, or weekly yo yo is so so tireing it is enough to make you want to give up. There are times when It feels like last september just as mum died and I felt like I had nothing to live for anymore. I don't know if broken hearts can ever be healed, mine doesn't feel like it will ever be. To me, the most important thing is people, healthy people. Health in happiness and love. The happy I have that even convicing someone to have an app in work remain as a cake symbol feels awesome. haha. :) (the boss hasn't queried it just yet...)
I need to work on feeling safe by myself again. For dark rooms and sleeping to not feel like the hardest task to complete. Carrying on seems easy, the fear of it all ending-the carrying on part, is actually the worst thing. Because once you aren't carrying on it's giving up and if you give up you may as well just be dead-though i'm too cowardice for that. I think it's because I know I don't want to die, I don't want to give up. They always say if you really want to do something like that then you will just do it and take yourself away. After all, it's what dad did.
There's always something, that little voice in you which says you don't really want to be doing this, which is the hardest part of the circle if you do do the bad thing because then you beat yourself up for doing it. It's the worst admitting to failure.
My life feels like a mind map and I have to keep reminding myself of what I have to make sure I don't give up because there is always that feeling of constant loss. I have to replace that lost feeling with what I know now and what I have already. This life now is a lot better then what it was last year. My job, my family I feel I have discovered after 11 years of long distance. In one year I feel the most closest to all of then I ever have. My friends-they should be called family really. At times I feel like I have only myself, of course we have only ourselves, but I don't want to just have myself and they remind me of what else is out there. I don't always like myself which is why I find it surprising when others do find me interesting. Self hate is a glorified energy I seem to always try and escape from but perhaps this produces the best me... I have made some of the best friends possible over time and I am so so lucky. There has been too much of my life where I have thought 'where have all the people gone', yet most of the time I had been pushing them away as well. In school, never socialising with anyone else. Being a prick and being the English snob in the Welsh world. I wanted to be different to everybody else, perhaps in the wrong way. I always knew there was never something right but I couldn't put my finger on it. All along, it was me-because I was making the environment wrong, not them.
Most of the time, I feel about 80. I feel like I have no life, that I can't bear to think more than weeks ahead because it is too scary. It's a life without mum. The life I lead now are only more years without her. The life I lead now is more time to face that I have no alive parents. None by blood. It's like loosing your identity, I hate to know what it feels like for those adopted-it's better for those that don't know that they are. One of the hardest things is knowing I can't ask those questions for much longer about my childhood, because who will know what really happened. I have the family neighbours, they and my grandparents probably have the longest tales to explain.
I don't think there is enough help for people suffering from depression. Tablets numb it all, Valium will chill yourself but it's not dealing with the real issues. The circles your brain manages to get itself into with certain situations. The triggers, the stress, the extra plans, the oh my god I can't cope with this and it's easier to not move at all feelings which keep all that remains as it is. But those remains aren't happy, it's like dust on a carpet forever there but sinking in further-and no-one likes a dirty carpet.
'that girl's gonna die on our carpet.'
I wish there were safety centres for those feeling too scared by themselves. I was told that If ever in doubt to go to a&e. Can't there be a centre where you don't have to explain yourself over and over, telling someone your story only to further remind yourself of all that you have lost, of all that you are. All that you beat yourself up for, the loath.
After my stressful weekend I'm starting to feel like I can see things a bit clearer now. I know that it's those moments where I'm feeling a bit trapped that needs a little more work on. And now I feel like I have the people around to help me, as well as me helping myself.
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