Regarding loss

 At the end of my last relationship I was consumed by grief in all its stages I lost.. something, 

but it wasn’t him.

Rather, I had lost myself in the process of loving him 

I had poured all of my strength into him, into us 

All I wanted was to make him happy
My needs were tucked away, folded neatly beside my desires..

 resting in the back of my closet 

Dreams greeted me by the front door, gently hanging off of our coat rack,

while yours were at the forefront of our life together

All I wanted to do was make you happy

I tried to hold onto “us” 

I held on tight like a child making my way across a set of monkey bars, 

desperately longing to place both feet on the other side.

my grip was solid, but my arms could not support my weight 
loving you had made me weak
You were always three bars ahead of me, 

racing against my illusions of “us” 

We were too busy patching up deep wounds with Band-Aids and plastering masks on our faces to realize we couldn’t recognize ourselves anymore.

We were at an impasse

I could no longer see the back of your head, 

You had vanished

When I reached for the next rung, there was none

I would seek comfort from the ground below, but all it did was taunt me for my failures 

“You are not strong enough”

I was afraid it was right

I was afraid I would never heal
when I realized I was all I had left, 

I finally allowed myself to let go  
When I took the fall, I was afraid, 

afraid of breaking unseen parts of me

Afraid of shaking up my internal world 

I was afraid my heart would never feel whole again

Yet..

To my surprise, I did not collapse 

Instead, I landed with grace..in a field of poppies where I could see the milky clouds slow dancing against the clear blue sky 

and now, every time I see your face I am reminded of how easy it is to lose yourself in another person 

Losing you was the first step in finding myself again 

For that I will always be grateful. 

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Clarity

The most wonderful part of getting over a break up is shifting focus back to yourself. 

I was giving too much of myself to keep something that had vanished long ago. I don’t blame him and I don’t blame myself, either. I have learned so much from my past relationship and I genuinely wish him well. 

If I don’t take care of myself, who will? 

I will gladly carry my own baggage to the dumpster. 

I’m slowly, steadily learning to love myself with every fiber of my being. I miss the love and kindness I once had for myself. I am digging out all the weeds and planting the proper seeds within. 

Against the current

The mind is a beautiful, fruitful garden.
Every thought that grows within is unique.
I genuinely enjoy the way my thoughts flow.

My emotions tend to get the best of me,
leaving me with irrational thoughts.
I always feel so torn.
I feel completely numb, yet I feel it all.
I don’t know what I need,
I don’t even know what I think I want.

I want to help others.
I want to make an even greater impact on people than I already have.
I don’t want to neglect myself while attempting to care for someone else.
I am unlearning negative thought patterns, but they are so tempting to follow.

Instead of studying..

I just need to write.

I need to let things out.. I need to let things go.
I have been so stuck in my head about everything that’s been happening in my life that the weight my back is carrying has me feeling like I’m breaking down and falling apart.
I’ve been so depressed, anxious, and fearful.
I’m insecure and afraid.
I don’t know how to handle my own emotions right now.

Fortunately, I was able to get a prescription for Prozac today.
My school offers a free health clinic to students which I take advantage of greatly.
The health clinic on campus requires students to arrive fifteen minutes prior to their appointment, which I was attempting to respect when I arrived at the time my appointment was set. I didn’t arrive early. That seems like a very minor thing, but it caused a mass of anxiety to churn my insides into shit.

I took my first 10mg of Prozac about an hour ago and I feel the same.
I know it’s not supposed to work like magic, but why can’t it?
I’m so tired of feeling so hopelessly blue. I am on the verge of tears every day, my moods ranging from kinda sad (I can still be logical and reasonable at those times) to overwhelming sadness (occasional bouts of sobbing with illogical, unhealthy thought patterns that I feel incapable of escaping).

Being full of all of these bullshit emotions make it extremely difficult to focus on anything or get anything done.
I’ve had it in my mind that I would spend some time journaling/writing on my blog and having healthy time with myself for the past two weeks, but I feel unmotivated. I feel incapable of simply picking up a pen and letting all of my pain pour out to paper.

I am just so goddamn overwhelmed.
My stress levels are killer right now.
My body is in so much physical pain, every day feels like torture.
I am endlessly miserable.

It’s hard to focus, like I said.. which really sucks, considering this is my first term back at community college since I failed my last term over a year and a half ago. I want to do better this term. I just feel like I’m set up to fail again.. over and over again.. the cycle needs to stop, but how?

My boyfriend and I broke up.
I’m grieving the loss of our 3.5 year relationship.
It’s fucking difficult, considering we see each other every day.
We live together, we share a room, and occasionally share a bed.
I might still be in denial about it all. I only say that because I find it incredibly painful and difficult to talk about it with anyone. The only person I really talk to about it is him.
I’ve told my sister, my best friend, and a few other acquaintances.. but for the most part, I feel rather alone in this suffering. I know he’s suffering too, but I just don’t know what to do. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m always thinking about him.
I want to move forward, because that’s what he’s doing. That’s what he wants. He wants to move forward with his life, on his own.
I could have scorched the entire planet with my desire for him. I could have done so much to keep him, to show him he means so much to me.
But none of that matters now.
What’s done is done.
We have hurt each other plenty and THIS is the cycle we have chosen to end, but I would have endured it until the end of time.

I know I just need time to reflect on my past relationships, past hurts, and my relationship with myself.
I need to focus on myself and how I can truly be my best self.
I just wish he could see that we can do that while still being together.
This is what’s best for us both.

My study skills suck.
They are nonexistent.
I am full of sadness and resentment and fear of the unknown.

I am glad I’m starting antidepressants again, I need help.

Yesterday I skipped two of my classes.
I slept in and missed the first one.
I was five minutes late to my psych class and it really messed me up.
I was feeling so much anxiety. We had an in-class assignment worth 2-3 points that I felt an overwhelming amount of anxiety over, causing me to stay frozen in my seat–assignment in hand, when my instructor asked if everyone’s papers got turned in.

I lost 2 bonus points because of my anxiety.
I’m not doing great in my psych class, the concepts aren’t too difficult to grasp but I have a hard time focusing on my studies when my personal life is literal garbage.

I guess it’s just one step at a time.
Hike after hike.
I can’t wait to get to the top of the mountain.
Climbing’s a bitch.

Misery Bidness 

I’m constantly on the verge of tears and I feel like I’m dying. 

I have this thirty pound snake coiled up on my back, making it impossible to get up and out of bed. If I do manage to move, the boa engages its muscles to wrap itself around me and my lungs feel so tight that they might collapse. I feel this way every day. Seeing the mess in my house doesn’t help, because I don’t feel like I can help. I have no energy to muster. I can only drone out in front of my computer bingeing on shows that make me feel sad. Everything makes me feel sad. I feel hopeless and miserable inside. I haven’t even been enjoying food lately. I’m wasting money ordering delivery, yet again. Every day. At least once a day. $15-20, gone. I can take care of myself, I just do it slowly as I build up the courage to fight the snake. It has a pretty tough grip, I don’t feel strong enough. I’m not strong enough. I’m not good enough. I’m just not enough.. and that’s probably why my boyfriend doesn’t want to live together anymore. He says we are going through a rough patch, but I guess I don’t see it. All I see is the weight of my depression killing our relationship. I try to save the only energy I have to make him happy, do small things that I can to keep him content so he won’t leave. But that’s not enough, it never will be. 

It’s not that I’m not trying, because I am. I’m trying so hard I feel like I’m dying and I’m grasping for something that I can’t reach. Everything is so far out of reach. 

Everything is so far and I can barely get out of bed. 

I leave my house only when I drop my boyfriend off at work or pick him up from work and it’s not enough. I am confined to these walls, but not the walls of our bedroom or our house. I am confining myself within my own mind. 

He tells me he isn’t depressed anymore or that he’s coming out of depression, and I’m happy for him that he’s able to get things done, but I’m miserable because I can’t help but think he’s going to leave me now that he’s doing better. What place do I hold in a sane, normal-tempered persons life? I am a placeholder while he gets his act together. I am temporary. I am replaceable. I will see him one day, lover by his side, and she will be beautiful. She will be much more beautiful than I. She will compliment him better than I ever could. She will be everything he’s ever dreamed of, and she will be real. They will accomplish so much together, she’ll help him get over his fear of flying and they will travel the world together- while I’m still trying to get out of my bed, my prison, my mind. I want to be this woman, I want to be this lover to him. I just feel like I can’t. I feel like I’m not good enough to be anything more than a girl trying to wrestle a boa. 

Another day in the void

I feel so self absorbed I am marinating in my feelings of depression and desperation 

I can’t even describe how I feel. 

I wake up and think, “I need to clean and organize and it would benefit everyone. I will clean and Daniel will come home and feel less tense when he’s home because it’s not as messy and we have a neat place, because I would have spent all day cleaning.. unpacking, storing, organizing, washing dishes, making the bed, taking a shower, shaving, putting on fresh new clothes, bathing the cats, making dinner, serving dinner as soon as Daniel gets home from work- whether I pick him up or he walks through the door and smells a home cooked meal and he’ll feel like his long day at work is worth it when he comes home and I’m home and home looks and feels nice and I look nice for once, and home is not somewhere he’d rather not be. Maybe it’s not the mess, maybe it’s me.” But that never ACTUALLY happens. I never get up to keep the house tidy and I never get up to take a shower. I online order a 1/4lb polish hot dog with a small side of chili fries, first meal of the day at noon, not long after I recently opened my eyes and my mind is already spinning out of control and I lack control so I eat something that doesn’t even sound appealing to me when I’m not even hungry and then I’m out $15, but filled with disgust. I force myself out of bed to take a piss, I force myself to feed the cats when their hungry eyes pierce the sadness in my soul and their cries for food give my body strength to pour food into their bowls, but my strength dissipates quickly as I watch them swallow the dry kibbles. 

For eight days now I have not gone to work, because I no longer work anywhere. I’ve relocated and I’ve already found myself incapable of doing anything for myself. 

Maybe I don’t give myself enough credit for the things I do, but I feel like the things that are most important in my mind, I can’t even begin to accomplish. I don’t feel like I can do anything. I feel useless and hopeless and that feeling never goes away. My body still feels sick, but my mind feels much worse. 

My body is fighting this cold, but my mind is losing every battle. 

I can’t even enjoy a vacation, nothing ever feels like a vacation when all the stress and worry in my life clings to my insides like superglue. 

I can’t even enjoy the first week of living with the love of my life again after ten month of living apart. I worry I’ll never be enough. I worry I am a bad girlfriend. I worry I am not wanted, loved, or attractive. 

Yet these feelings of doubt and concern are completely unwarranted, because I am the only one feeding this destructive monster in my mind. I crave my lover’s soft and gentle words of affirmation and reassurance when all I hear is the sound of television pouring into his ears and his mind is chasing after a different void. Why must I burden him after a long day at work, where he’s had to wear a mask over his depression and anxiety just so he can afford to finance our new life together? Why must I constantly berate him for attention because I feel insecure? Why do I feel like his words of my self worth and body image matter more than mine do? Why must I always seek approval from him when I don’t feel approval from myself? Fuck. 

I’ve been laying in bed for four hours and I hate myself.  

Home again. 

Deep heavy sigh. I don’t even know where to start. 

I really do miss writing, but I feel so worn down by depression and anxiety that I don’t feel motivation or drive to simply open up my WordPress app, let alone dive into the bottomless pit of my tortured soul. 

I feel so many things. So, so, so many emotions. So many negative, fucked up feelings that sink their rotted teeth into the tender lining of my belly. It’s as if my body has become infected with the worst disease mankind could imagine– yet it is much worse. It is real. This sickness is rooted in the mind and it conquers the deepest crevices of my existence. There is no telling where I begin and depression ends. Depression never ends. It has engulfed my essence and has spat out a deeply troubled version of who I once was, who I could still be if not for the leeches that feed off my inner light. 

Anxiety is much kinder. I can taste it, I can sense its presence. It is a cycle that has momentary lapses of control. It is always there, always over analyzing every situation I enter and waiting for the perfect moment to take over. Lingering doubts lay on the bed of my tongue and when they awaken, my throat is glued shut and my voice is null. All I can do is sit and wait for my strength to return. I am in a vast sea of guilt and despair, struggling to stay afloat. I feel the cycle washing over me like the bitter waves crashing against my flailing body. I close my eyes and let the icy water pull me under, hoping for a safe return to shore. 

I sink slowly, further, deeper into the cold abyss- until warmth tenderly flows from my chest and casts a shield of protection over my being. I pry my eyelids open. Still catching my breath. I am gazing into a set of two oceanic eyes. Waves ebbing, not crashing. Rays of sunshine pouring over the darkest parts of the freezing salt water, and I am not afraid anymore. Your voice trickles it’s way down my throat and brightens the radiance once lost. 

You are safe, my love.”

“I am here.”

And I am home.