I suffer from depression. It runs rampid in my family. I chose for a very long time to ignore it. I am still choosing to ignore it.
I always blamed being sad, disappointed, angry and unmotivated, irrational, short tempered and the constant feeling of suffocation on anything and everything.... the current circumstance, the people I was surrounded by, anything but what it really was.
I was not weak. I would not allow myself to think I was weak. Depression meant weakness to me. I was told and I am still told by so many people that I "am so strong", " I wish I had your strength", "you are the strongest person I know"... So I forced myself to believe that it HAD to be true, right? I was a strong person.
No, I'm not strong, I'm just good at not showing what's really going on in my head. I am weak. I am scared.
My whole life I have felt inatiquate. I have felt like less. Like an out cast. I have always been uncomfortable in my own skin. Always felt like I was on the verge of exploding and falling apart into thousands of pieces. Many nights, more than I care to admit, I had gone to bed praying I wouldn't wake up so that this feeling of crawling in my own skin would go away.
And for those who know me, they propbably are wondering how? I was always outgoing and social and smiling, lots of friends, things came naturally to me... It was all fake. A front. A facade.
Still is.
I am my own worst enemy. I am always sold myself short. I know this, but that voice in my head just wont shut the fuck up, ever. You're worthless. You're nothing. You're a joke. You don't deserve ________.
You are a fake. You're a piece of shit. Look at you, you're ugly, fat, you know nothing. I can't quiet it, I can turn it down, but it's always there. Taunting me.
I think that's why I always surrounded myself with people, men in particular, who would take that voice out of my head and into their mouths. Just so I didn't think I was crazy, just for confirmation that what I thought, to be truth, it must have been because they were saying it too, right?
Abusive always seemed easier to me than an actual loving person. Because partly or mostly I felt I deserve it. In some ways I still do. Because they did to me in reality what I do to me privately.
I always am draw to people with problems. I feel the need to try to fix them because I cant fix myself. I can't hear their demons. People that are more fucked up than I am. So I can feel normal even if for just a second.
Lately, I am having trouble breathing. I am antsy and I feel myself slipping. I feel my skin crawling and I feel the urge to go, escape. But I can't run, cause I can't run from myself. All I want to do is sleep. Because the only time I can't hear the taunts is when I sleep.
I just want to be able to sit still. I want to be able to breathe. I want to not claw at myself because I can't stand myself. I want to feel SOMETHING. I am tired of being numb or just angry and sad.
I took medication. I was too calm, too passive, too whatever, too mellow. I felt like a walking zombie, different from the zombie I feel like normally.
I just feel trapped right now and its causing me to have anxiety. Trapped in my head. I dont want to talk to anyone. I dont want to go anywhere. I think I am developing social anxiety. The only places I feel safe and comfortable are home and at my grandmothers. Everywhere else I have to act.
It takes a lot for me to let anyone in. Very few people really know me. There are very few people I trust and love. But the ones I do, I love them more than I could ever love myself. These are people who have been on this fucking roller coaster with me and know my demons, but they see past them.
I don't have any of those people around me anymore, they are so far away and I feel them slipping further and further with each passing year. I miss them. I am homesick for them. I want to be near them. I need to be near them to be healthy. I don't know what to do anymore.
I don't know what the right answer is. I am missing so much. I am so lost right now. I feel very alone all the time lately.
