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thoughtsofanother-blog1 · 7 years ago

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The First Post.

How do I even start this? Not sure if there is any point in this. Please don’t be offended. If you are sensitive to depression then please move on to the next post.

I’m 23 years old and 5ft tall. Blonde long hair and green eyes. Not thin, wouldn’t say big but my BMI says I’m alittle overweight, but not far off. That’s not how I wanted to start this. I’ll describe all my detaisl to you, makes no sense, this is for me, not a job interview.

I’m the sort of person to start something on a wim, and yet never really see it finished properly. I have knitting balls of half made scarfs I’ve begun. Half finished stories being written, and then I just stop. Very rarely do I ever return to them.

Is that normal? Soemtimes I can feel myself falling through life, waiting for something big to happen, to have to sigh of relief…Final I’ve made it, I’ve done it.

I have dreams of people something incredible, something to be proud of and yet I’m stuck working a unpredictable job. Some days I have a good laugh and feel like I’m on top of the world, then I remember the money I owe, the debts I’m in. Am I proud of myself? Am I even trying my best? Am I even trying anymore?

I don’t know.

I’ll make a promise to myself know that everything that’s written in hear will be the truth and no lies. I’m not going to exagerate my thoughts and feelings, and I’m not going to make my life look extravagant like my social media does. Sometmes all you need is a pen and paper, or in this case, the sweet sound of the clicking keyboard beneath my fingers. It lets me know that whatever thought is in my head, it’s coming out into something.

I know I keep going on about myself but how will you know anything about me toherwise? How will I know anything about myself if I don’t admit to myself that I’m in a mental struggle with not only myself, but it feels like the world, and yet no one has done anything wrong.

Right now I’m sitting in my living room, my television is playing videos of a youtuber I love to watch. He calms me, makes me happy…and sad. Just resently I realised that I rely on his happiness way too much. I don’t want to admit my own sadness so I just watch everything he does, whether it’s playing a game, or just talking to the camera. I’m typing away at my computer listen to something on youtube called ambient fantasy music. I wanted something calming, but distracting, yet not distracting enough that I can’t type my own thoughts onto here.

I honest don’t know how long this will be, or if I’ll ever stop writing this. I don’t even know who I’m talking to now. Just the pixels on my computer and the reply of seeing my own thoughts on virtual paper.

I actually thought about writing this on paper. I love the feel of a pen and paper, nice and old fashioned but then I thought, maybe one day I’ll want to share this...and if I do, I won’t want to read it again, to type it again. Besides, there is something relaxing to me about typing and seeing the pages fill on a word document.

I just stopped to look away at the youtuber on the television, I smiled as you can imagine.

I guess maybe I should start with why I’m writing this in the first place. I needed to start getting my thoughts out.

I’m not one to talk to people about my problems. I just genuinely find it difficult. I hate it when someone sees a vulnerable side in me, or when I can’t help about cry into nothing. People usually go for a hug when they’re sad but something about it just makes me cry more. Maybe it’s the feeling of safety, to finally let it out.

I’m not really one for hugs though. Usuallly avoid them if I can but soemtimes others will be upset and I’ll offer one. I hate seeing others upset. I feel for people. My parents have always said I have way too much empathy. I see people and feel for them even if they don’t deserve it. I guess it’s a curse and a gift, but it is difficult at times. You end up worrying about everyone, and if someone goes through something you’ve felt before, you’ll go to all lengths to stop them feeling alone.

When I was younger my Mum was going for a walk down the shop, we needed the usually, milk and bread, the little things. Even if I was busy, or didn’t want to go, I would, because I didn’t want them feeling alone, feeling like they are walking towards nothing. It’s a strange feeling, something a lot of people wouldn’t understand. How do you explain that’s why you’ll walk with them, they’ll just think you’re crazy, maybe I am.

My friends say I’m very positive. Strangers say I’m very bubbly and happy to be around, relaxing. I suppose that’s my way of protecting myself, or them. I’m not really sure. I don’t want others to feel guilty for me, and I definitely don’t want people to look at me with sympathy or…feel that same empathy I feel for so many others. I would say I’m a hypocrite for sure. I tell others to not do what I do, to speak to someone close to you, who you can trust and yet I don’t do it. It’s actually my new years resolution this year, to voice myself more, to speak to others about any worries or pain I’m going through. I was doing well, I didn’t voice anything extreme, but the little things I’d tell my best friend and vice versa.

Sorry I was just staring at my desk…

Putting my hand to my mouth, wondering what to type. Don’t even know anymore. A lot of people would say to me, “if you feel like that, why don’t you get help?” I’m not sure myself. I don’t know why I don’t just get help. The doctors will look at me and what would I say. I’m depressed, give me pills? How do I prove I’m not well, or that I’ve felt like this ever since I was in school. I wouldn’t know what to say. I could always go and then sit in there room, as they wait for an answer, but I’d properbly just break down crying and want to run away.

I have thought about it before, running away that is. Work actually got too much for me once. I was working as a childcare practitioner in a nursery. It was lovely at first, but then you meet your colleagues and realise they would taunt you, blame you for little things you didn’t understand, then the sick days would start rolling in and the realtionship with them all would just spiral down, out of control. The more you were off, the more sick days you’d have. The more sick days you’d have, the more people would talk about you. The more bitching would happen behind your back and eventually, they wouldn’t even care about if you were right in front of them. So I ran. I applied to work abroad and did exactly that, within a week I had an interview, and just one more week I was flying out.

All nurseries seem the same to me. The children are lovely, but the practice and people who care for them were bored people with only intention of making life easier for themselves, and bored people will seek out the broken, stealing little pieces of them to mend their own sick minds.

I could never join in with the bitching or gossiping. To me it’s wrong. I see people from my work now off sick for days on end and I just relate to what happened to me. How they could be at home in their beds, wrapped up, not wanting to leave it with the fear of people asking, “Have you not got work today?” No. No I haven’t, I was staying in my bed and making my own drepessed and broken mind worse because I don’t want to face my own fears. Then I’ll feel guilty for replying with such ugly and harsh words even though it’s the reality of what I’m thinking and not some facard I’ve conjured in my head…

Okay, I lost myself a little there.

I did say that this will be every thought runing through my head though.

So far a lot of the time while writing this I’m just rubbing my finger along my lip, for comfort I suppose, a habit. A thinking habit.

Everyone always wonders the same. Is it me? I’m I broken. If someone asked me and I’d say they were beautiful, they’ve just happened to take a more difficult path than others. A rocky road that will in the end lead somewhere, somewhere they want to be, somewhere that makes them happy, true beauty is happiness. I don’t care if you think you’re ugly, or ill, or scared, or fat, thin, it’s just not within to judge someone because of their looks, but if I see a smile, it’s the most beautiful thing.

That’s most likely why I watch this youtuber. I see him smile day to day and wonder how much of it is fake, how much he plays on the same facard as I do. Does he still smile when he comes off camera. A lot of the time I’d say no. I wish I could write to him. Ask him so many questions. I could spend a whole day just talking about worries that he or I may have, however I know as soon as I’m placed in that room, my lips will be ceiled and no sadness will be admitted. When I see him I know I’d be my most vulnerable, I’d want to tell him so many things, about so many feelings I feel about different things, how he’s coped, if I can help him…he wouldn’t listen. He’s a kind hearted man, but he is just that. He’s not a miracle worker, he cannot be a therpist to the thousands, it’s an unfair preasure to push apon someone, and yet I’d still take it up in a heart beat and most likely spiral down quicker than he eevr would.

He’s a pretty strong people with worries of his own, he’s amitted it. He’s admitted to having some sort of depression from the preasure of work and the stance of social media. Which has just made me even more in awe at him.

I just got distracted by Twitter. Just scroled down to see more memes. People might say to me, it’s the illusion of social media that’s making you unhappy. I don’t think so, I’ve not been on social media all my life and I still felt the same then, so it’s just something that’s…not right with me. I wish I could explain it better.

I just want to cry right now, but my body doesn’t let me. Tells me to stop, be strong and carry on, and then I feel worse.

There we go.

Writing this down made for a good distraction and the tears can finally fall. I’ll wipe them away and the pain should be gone, I’ll make myself a coffee and then breathe in and out, calm myself. Maybe I have bipolar? I guess I can’t cross it off the list considering my sister has it. I don’t want to be on her medication though, she sometimes looks like a zombie, always looking drained. I woud prefer to at least feel the pain and not just numb it. #

Pain? Reminds me of when I was younger. I wasn’t abused, In fact I had a pretty good and open childhood. I wasn’t given everything and my family couldn’t afford special classes like singing which I loved or piano like I wanted, but I was a pretty happy child, being given encouragement and was well nourished. I was definitely a child with a voice and opportunaties, but I suppose oportunities arent for everyone.

I was having a very bad day, not sure why, still don’t know why. I was crying in the toilets for hours, not sure if I just wanted more attention than I could get or if I was just ill. I would scratch marks on the wall with my locker keys and then it just kind of clicked. I’m tearing up thinking about it.

Something just clicked inside me and I decided today was the day I wanted to leave, but do I just run away from everyone. I didn’t want to disapoint or leave anyone upset but I knew it was impossible not to do that. I knew I was loved by my friends and family. I wasn’t alone. I never have been, but I still wanted to leave.

I just looked like people to talk to for free about depressive thoughts, but funnily enough it’s never free, you always get the same “FREE FOR YOUR FIRST SESSION!” Then it’s £55+ after that. I don’t have that sort of money and I know a lot of people who feel the same as me don’t. Luckily the youtuber I look upto does. His entertaining earns him a healthy living and he’s said he seeks help, very proud of him for doing that.

I’m not hungry.

I’m overweight though. Just people I don’t eat all the time doesn’t mean I’m a skinny mini. I don’t hate skinny people but I do admire how they look. I wish I could go out without pulling my top away from my tummy out, thinking peope are looking at the rolls I’ve got. I’m over my BMI which means I’m overweight. Every now and then I get a burst of energy and want to work out like mad, healthy healttily and try my hardest, but I have no motivation. I’ll eventually slip back into making chips, or eating crisps like watching all the youtubers I love.

Yes I’d say I’mobsesed with youtube, not the vloggers, but a lot of the gamers on there have my admiration. Two of them I looks up to so much. Sean Mcloughin and Felix Kjelburg I think is how you spell it. I’ve watched them for years now, seen them go through thick and thin, ups and downs, even too there lowest points. It I admire Felix for his strive and confidence, his abilty to speak out with the camera to change and I admire Sean for his compassion and understanding, he is the one I could talk to on end for hours about anything and everything.

My boyfriend who I live with will be home soon. I should start cooking dinner for him as he’s home from work. Would be unfair to do nothing but sulk all day. It will just make me workse anyway. Really I should get up and do something. Doesn’t matter wait, cleaning, singing, play a game. Something btu I don’t want to. I just want to sit here right now and stare into the words that appear on my screen. It’s interesting to me to see how my words change from one second to the next about the next strange thing that pops into my mind.

Not sure if I should just keep writing, been doing this for about a good hour. Do I continue, not sure if it’s makign me happier and lighter or if I’m feeling all horrible thoughts like regergitation, pretty disgusting really.

My partner just walked in. Threw his bag on the floor and left the room, didn’t see him, no greeting. He must have had a hard day. Sometimes it just works like that. I’m not going to talk to him this time though. I’m tired. It’s been the same for months now, he complains about his job. He’s going through similar as I did, don’t think as extreme considering it’s usually about one person at his work and not everyone, he’s not in a weird spiral going down because he’s had those horrible sick days. I think he’s just tired, like we all are.

I am tired.

My partner is not abusive if you’re thinking that, he’s usually very supportive. He had aspergers which makes him not see how I’ll feel in most situations, sometimes I can literally be crying next to him and he wont even realise, or I’ll be talking about myself and he’ll start to talk about himself. But it’s not his fault, he cares immencelly and I care for him too. Sometimes I just need silence though. He loves to talk, it could literallu be able the fact he’s done washing up or had a coffee. I will listen, I love him so why wouldn’t I. If he needs to talk to me, I’ll listen. But sometimes I need that quiet too, today is now not an option though, he’s angry at something, maybe me, maybe not. Not sure until he tell me. It’s most likely not anything to do with me but he makes it seem like it when he doesn’t say anything. If you understand my meaning.

Everyone has a hard day every now and then, but some have it more than others.

The door is closed.

Should I close mine too.

Looking at the words that appear on this is very strange. It comes off as very poetic and riddle like but all I’m doing is writing down the thoughts as they are coming into my head. What they mean I don’t know, should I read them back? Probably, but I don’t want to. I really don’t want to.

Suppose you could say I’m scared, scared of seeing how deep my mind can go, or how little sense it really makes. I’m not sure. I never am as I’ve realise from this. Maybe I all the decisions I make from day to day make me not want to make anymore decisions. Do I get out of bed? Do I ring in sick? Do I do something productive? Or do something like this?

Nice one. It rhymed. Proud of my brain for that one.

Still silence…Suppose I’m not finding out until I ask. I don’t want to though but I should, I need to keep everyone around me healthy.

He’s got a crack in his windscreen, we’ll need to replace it. That’s £80 down the drain. Doesn’t matter, I mean we don’t have that sort of money but I’ll find it from somewhere, always do. Not his fault, he’ll now blame himself and hide away until I made him laugh again. It’s the same routine when this happens, then he’ll be fine, we both will. We both will.

I wonder if he ever has these thoughts, I know he was bullied when he was younger, not sure how badly, he had no scars, but I think it was more people didn’t know how to be around him. I like being around him, he cares for me. Sometimes it feels like he cares more for me than I for him…I hope it never comes off that way. I’ll just not have anything new this month. Maybe a cheap small game to keep me company and that’s it. No more than it, I don’t deserve more anyway. I’ve had 2 days off this week, even though we need the money. He hates his work and still manages to go in and yet I still struggle to get out of bed.

I just started shaking, was that anger? Why am I angry? Smile, and stop, he cannot see you broken today.

The earliest he can get the car fixed is for next week, he’ll be staying round his parents until then. It’s going to be abit lonely to be honest. Maybe I need this time to reflect on myself though. To write it down. I wont eat properly though. Pastas for lunch and dinner. My comfort lazy foods.

I can hear him ringing his parents, they’re probably a bit confused with his luck, it’s happened 3 times, him staying round his parents because the car is busted I mean. People most likely laugh at our bad luck, it’s pretty bad, that’s life I guess. Thigns go good, then some go bad. Some go bad and then some get worse. I should just brush it off like normal. Brush it off me! Brush it off!

I want to scream. My head is already screaming at nothing. I should get a coffee.

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