The Ache

The thing about this sadness is that it never really goes away. Some days its a dull ache, or could morph into emptiness. Some days it can be covered by drugs and alcohol and the fake happiness and release it gives me.

But days like today it is like an ocean that has just engulfed me complelety.

Sadness has always been a part of my life, I guess it is one of the few things that hasn’t actually left me. I’ve realised I’m scared of happiness, because it always abandons me. Just like my BPD makes me terrified of people leaving me. It is only temporary for me. But sadness, it never leaves.

I look at myself in the mirror or on the front phone screen camera while this depressive episode consumes me, and I see the bags under my eyes even though I have slept all day, but the life in my eyes has dimished, my eyes just look different. I lay in bed and it feels like concrete but it’s like im paralysed, like theres weights in my stomach holding me down. All I can do is stare at the wall. It takes way too much energy to even put on a movie. Even then, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it. I probably have assignments due today, and emails I haven’t replied to.

To others, i am nothing. I am that annoyance and burden that no one wants to talk to. The last option. The person that is left one way or another. I am too much. I drift, I don’t want to speak to people. I don’t want to see people.

I lay here imagining myself dead. How much easier it would be. I always have. I should’ve died a long time ago. I honestly have not had a normal life because of mental illness. It has fucked up so much.

Years

I have always believed that every year that I will enter will be a complelety different year to what I left behind – so many things will naturally and inevitabely change.

That thought in itself is both exciting and terrifying.

I keep thinking how every single aspect of my life leading up to now has changed me, for better or even for worse.

All of these building blocks for the growth I have endured.

New people became the most important and present people in my life. Some who were previously that in my life have grown distant.

Unravelling my own morals, untangling my own identity from the knots I felt consume me.

New songs, laughter, giddiness, sex, first kisses, and unforgetable moments with people I evetually had to say goodbye to.

Healing from heartbreak, healing from bad days – lots and lots of healing.

Meditiation, angel cards, journalling, art.

New diagnosis’s, new medication. A hospital visit, doctors visitis, new pschologists and a new psychiatrist.

New music, new movies, new books.

I have to remind myself, these are critical parts of being human. everything I feel is valid. There will be better days and the worse days, they will pass.

Sinking

“ i always get myself into this mess. i always let him tell me i am beautiful and half believe it. i always jump thinking he will catch me at the fall. i am hopelessly a lover and a dreamer and that will be the death of me” – Rupi Kaur

It is a fog. I can feel it nesting throughout my mind – heavy, grey.

It covers any sort of positive thought with its heavy grey mass, the positive and logical thoughts I have been trying to build in my mind since this last happened.

The guilt and anger of feeling like i’ve lost that progress, it just adds to how much of a faliure i already feel like.

My eyes feel heavy, but i have had about a 24 hour sleep.

i can feel it. it’s in my stomach. an empty void that is sucking all the life out of me. the black hole i have been desperatley tried not to let consume me.

it’s a constant ache.

every single beat of my heart is pumping this sadness through my body like it has replaced my blood.

the void that everyone keeps telling me to fight against. to do things that make me feel better.

there’s no point.

i feel paralyzed.

i am not enough. i have never been enough. people moving on to others and leaving me just proves that – it proves that i lack something.

it proves that i was not enough for them to stay. it proves that i was delusional for ever believing their words.

maybe i expect too much.

i am a bottle of emotions waiting to explode.

i see the scars on my body.

they have also seen the scars on my body.

i hate them. they make me more ugly.

i will never have a beautiful body.

this is no one’s fault but mine. i will never blame.

i feel like i can’t escape.