why

Reading something, I’ve come to realise, doesn’t provide much help when you’re lost.
I was lost today and found no such comfort in anything I came across online reading.
That the issues that people were having in these online stories were simple questions for me to work out.. or in other sense, really wasn’t something that I could relate to, it was not my struggle. Your twenties are filled, so far, at the least for me, with more, much more ‘I don’t know what I’m doing’ answers    the uncertainty is peaking and I wasn’t expecting it to be this challenging the reasons why why why I ask and I beg for the right answers, but unlucky, maybe for me, it is quite possible that through letting life be, and taking a risk in seeing where life might go,  could be the only way to get my answers, the only way to get someplace exciting.

I mean I know that reality is there are people making books and blogs telling us, it’ll be fine do this this and this.. or don’t fuck up and to not fuck up – do this this and this… but an instruction manual doesn’t provide no comfort, no reassurance and no guidance to what the fuck you’re supposed to do when you don’t have that confidence to follow and do what you’re sure, what you must have to do for you.

It seems the norm that people at the very least, have a step.. a something you know, that they like something a lot, because they’ve been doing it for so long when they were younger and now they’re good at it so theres always that..
theres always ‘ that ‘ .. that…
the thing of your child your innocence, the thing you do for you, is the thing you’re meant to hold onto. it holds your youth, the thing that makes you at ease, at peace, in a place of your own, that comfort is important, it is significant to you and your life, I know that things like this, have a place to stay continuously in life, the good days the bad days, the days too busy the days stressed, must come back to this.

For myself I think constantly about questions to find answers…

what do you want to be when you grow up….
Constantly it reoccured with people in their twenties, with life decisions, unsure of what one to make. Unsure, as in not sure what one out of multiple…
This is not my situation, alike to the phrase, it’s like riding a bike.. I am afraid of the bike and can not ride it, and similar to falling asleep, where you just have to relax and let it happen.. I stay awake, sleepless and restless, that moment to fall is a fear, which, answers my own problem, that it is my own fault, to have no answer yet, because I am constantly staying away unable to push the pedals and see where I go, I am over alert to my current state and the magic of life is being halted by my own overactive panic.

where do you see yourself in five years… 
I have no concept of how my life will look in a month, but it doesn’t look all too great, so five years seems a pretty large stretch, to which I believe people answer with, settling down, maybe with the man of my dreams, maybe by then I’ll be engaged and thinking about children, and of course I would have worked my way up in the company with a much higher role and I’ll have my own place and it’ll be beautiful and I’ll have a dog and I’ll be at the gym after work, and I’ll save up for holidays with my partner and our friends and we’ll travel and spend lots of money and come back home to our perfect little routine of life and it’ll be busy busy busy busy and I’ll wake up every day blessed… it’ll run life will run..
I mean theres nothing wrong with that, I guess when asked I could say that?? Maybe perhaps thats what people do, they answer like that, kinda hoping but really have no clue at all, maybe its just because I’m slightly pessimistic that I really don’t see that as a reality. At least not mine.

I mean there is harsh reality, hard love, tough love, over optimism and complete black depressive outlooks and advice on how to deal and how to get through days when shit hits the fan… Sometimes the advice helps sometimes it wont, sometimes its right for you sometimes its wrong.. There are days that will fly by and you’ll know you’re getting older, and life seems to have two feat on the pedals and its just moving along, and you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep without panic. but nights will creep up… and it’ll be sleepless, there will be unsteady rides and days where getting on the bike will struggle.. but letting go is the key to making these things happen, life happen, at least it is the struggle for me.
sometimes it isn’t all relative..

I guess the questions, the questioning will get you somewhere, the asking will get you help, but sometimes in struggle all you want to say is… why? 

Notepad. Private.

life isn’t running to plan
I’m living without goals
I’m living without dreams
As though I was stripped of it the excitement for life
I feel scared because it makes me feel different,
seeing people my age, younger older, living for something,
to get to wealth or happiness or beauty
to achieve or succeed or accomplish
to experience to feel and to express

I tried making goals, but some place, someplace dark and far away, distant my mind constantly repeats, it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter.

I tried making changes but sometimes even an attempt and I fail.. I expect that each time I try. As though I already know my place, that I am comfortable with it.

But the truth is I want something in my heart to follow, or at the least, I want to know that there is going to be something for my heart to follow.
For as much as my mind wonders, for as much as my mind breathes negatively, I do seek, I do fight, and I do hope. I have a want a desire to have my life become consumed by something beautiful, that I can be or do something in this world. I hopelessly wish that perhaps my purpose my being has a greater meaning than I can see. That I could do something or be something, impact in some way, that I cannot right now imagine.
I hope, that I could be a good person one day.
In ways, I hope to create a greater change for people rather then create a change in myself.
Yet it’s frustrating and annoying to me, to feel a glimpse of passion, of drive to motivate my life, to then lose it to my thoughts, to ‘rationalise’ and believe its all a load of shit and reality perhaps is that it is all worthless. That maybe I’ll work a 9-5 job and never travel never experience never create wonderful things, just live, 9-5 on repeat.

Sometimes I feel I have such negativity in my life, because maybe that is what I want.
Maybe it’s all made up in my head, maybe my life was destined to a beautiful path. With people and love and experiences and fun and opportunities and maybe it was also me who ruined it, either aware or not. That is the difficult thing, about dealing, about understanding your mind, your thoughts, when you have anxiety, when you have depression. To take responsibility that you yourself created the mess, created the problem… It hurts to know someplace in my mind, I’m somewhat knowingly doing things and thinking things, to harm myself.. That I need to be told by someone, what my wrong thoughts are and fix them, changing them into something else which should make my life clearer, better, happier – ‘normal’. It hurts to know I’m broken, by my own doing.
My actions harmful or not have been out of fear.
I do and I think and I feel most of the time because I am scared. So much so that it is almost scary when I am not – when I am calm.

I guess this is the mess I think about.
Starting 2017 well aware I make mistakes, that I’m scared and that maybe I am ruining the future for me, but also knowing I’m taking the responsibility fully, entirely.
Because I still want.
I want something.
I feel
I feel the need to have dreams and ambitions and goals and pleasure
and more then coping with today.
and more then just one more fucking pill.
and more then fixing the shit in my head.

I feel
I want

a single tingle in my fingers
a sweep a wave of warmth igniting, fuelling from my every breath,
ten seconds pass and I try to hold my breath in while my heart thuds thuds thuds
like a balloon about to burst the air inside feels too much breathing out through my mouth serves no purpose but to worsen the racing thoughts gaining control over my body.
my stomach feels hungry yet my mouth dying for water.. dry its hard to swallow yet it feels like I’m waiting seconds minutes longer longer then usual.. longer I know because I notice how much focus I have on waiting to have enough saliva to swallow.. my stomach meanwhile it groans because it’s been 6 hours since I’ve eaten but I’m afraid my body will reject it, there’s no way to calm it down. sips of water dissolve like a mist would in the desert. a stomach full of water and no food just makes things worse. I can feel my mouth warmer and warmer, conscious that my breath will smell I clean my teeth. momentarily, 5 seconds or perhaps 6 go by and I feel great, relaxed, calm. Then I take a deep breath, hold 5..4…3..2…1.. Instantaneously I go to swallow and my mouth has the feeling of when the doctor checks your throat and your expected to say..’aaaahhhhh’ while a dry wooden flat stick is placed on your tongue. At this point, I can look around to realise I’ve paced walked tapped my feet in one means or the other for this entire period. I lay down hoping to calm my body. again 3 seconds of calm.. the calm fills me with warmth, like when you get a fright, like when you realise you did something wrong, like when you jump off something.. except the warmth doesn’t last for a few seconds to be then released… it lasts like the warmth of a hangover body after drinking the night before. I take clothes off to release this feeling, sweating I can hear my heart race and beat so so powerful that in silence I can hear it block my hearing at every thud.. thud.. thud..
shivers work  my way up my body, a tingle sensation that grows and grows taking over my body.
looking at a blank wall I become confused as to what my body wants, trying to eat is not possible. my taste changes and everything becomes unappealing. small bites plain bread.
15 minutes later after conversations of deliberate distraction, i find my stomach turning i feel as though my body is rejecting everything and anything.
25 minutes pass and I’m getting tired of trying to stay on top of it, the breathing the relaxing the thoughts the tapping the visualisation.. it all feels like its doing nothing, getting me nowhere.
Headed to the bathroom, I feel my stomach rise heat in my throat.
head in the bowl my stomach aches I vomit and there’s nothing left in my stomach, my stomach keeps going and going, hurting my muscles more and more I feel weak as nothing else comes up.
My body is tired, I’m scared to eat, to drink.
Waves of hot and waves of cold, my sensory is heightened.
light-headed, I feel faint, heavy fast breathing only makes things worse.
what do I want?
what do I want?
what do I want??
Birds outside, voices, the news on the tv, trying to block the noise of the thud thud thud from my chest. Listening outside to block the thoughts inside my head.
But it feels distracting. My body wants to feed itself, it doesn’t want me to calm down.
shaky hands and a taste of acid in my mouth I try again to breathe deep again. hold 1…2…
And I rush to the toilet again, head over the bowl..
I want to cry my body aches yet my muscles contract trying to bring up rejecting anything in my stomach.
I’m frustrated and tired yet I feel my body could run for miles and miles, I want to get rid of this feeling.
leaving the safety of my room, I become aware of noises around me. annoyed by the ticking, the repetitive noise, the loud noise. I break I scream wanting it all to stop.
In silence, I hear my heart beating again, my stomach turns, the warmth rises and flows around my body, tingling my fingertips to toes. teeth clenched mouth shut tight my jaw cannot relax. In its entirety my body is tense, trying to be prepared for what is next.
Closing my eyes I can’t understand why
leaving the house can be hard
seeing people can be hard

which make getting out of bed hard, which can make getting dressed hard,

and its all in my head
and its the feeling of panic
and its the feeling of excitement
and its the feeling that I cannot explain or give reasons to always.
it comes and goes
it comes and it goes

hate yourself to love yourself – stand up to sit down, push down fall down to get up to lay down

How many times do I need to bathe until I feel clean, until I feel clean again.

I just want to feel good, to feel fresh again, to feel myself again.

The fog makes my head heavy, my heart sad and my body big.

To keep trying, to keep pushing, is to just keep pushing the bad the big and the scary away,

watching it grow

I’m hurting

For the girl in the mirror isn’t beautiful on the inside.

She’s in pain.

She has seen bad things, she has felt the knife on her wrist, she’s felt the cold blade,

She’s felt the heat of tears she’s listened to what is said on the inside.

The hate, the hate the hate.

The shame, the humiliation the blame

Her body is flaws,

Her skin touched

and its ugly

It’s foggy and I keep sinking further before walking clear.

The voices, they don’t stop.

The voices, They scare me.

12:17 am

People always say how selfish it is to self harm or how painful it is to others to take ones own life.. but when you no longer live in a world with other people, when you live so much inside your own head, everything is only you.
There is no mum and dad, there is no friend and partner.
There is only you and your mind, and its not a place where you decide what you will have for lunch, its a place you become trapped in.
It gives you ideas, it gives you so much and it gives you everything, everything you want to take away.
So yes it is selfish, but you are no longer you.
It is not the intention to cause an attention, its intention is to breathe again.

You know when your stomach drops. Or when your head dangles over the edge of the bed. Or when your up so high on a swing and you feel a numbing pause. I feel the pause, from the thoughts to reality, from the fall to the ground, from the air in my lungs. I feel the pause without the release of the fall, without hitting the ground, without catching my breath. Its just all held in, and I want to jump.

You know when you crave something so badly, and when you think about it, you know that getting it will make everything feel good, and that theres nothing else you would want, or could want. So you do anything to get it, and you get it. And its amazing and you enjoy it and afterwards when you think about it, you feel satisfied. Thats something I don’t have.

You know when someone asks if you want an apple or an orange and you make a decision and you pick one because theres one you want. I don’t have that.
You know when someone asks you what you do, who you are, what you life is about. And you say that you moved, you work, you study, you like bands and music, you like concerts and alcohol and you want to go here and you want to go there you want to explore you want to try new things, you want to adventure, you want to experience life. I don’t have that.

You know when someone asks you what you want to be, where you want to go, what you love, what you need, what you want, what you see, what you feel. You know when you have an answer, I do not.
You know when nothing makes you happy, when nothing really did, you know when you have nothing to look back on or when you didn’t think you needed to think this far on. You know when you have no plans, no dreams, no love, no ideas, no desires, no excitements and you just think of getting through this day, this week, this month and you realise that once you’re there, theres nothing there.
Thats the fear I have today.
That I’m made up of nothing, that I’m beyond lost.

I feel like I’ve been staring at a blank wall for 21 years. Thinking of when everything might end. Thinking of how I am looked at and thought of by others. How I have only observed and how I do not participate. How I am the friend and not the girl. How I am the quiet and not the fun. How I am the sad and not the exciting. How I watch everything and everyone run past me, and how I let that be okay because it is just me. Only me.

 

Sixteen

The build up of Saturday morning before a party consisted of an warm unpleasant feeling in my stomach, a heavy pressure on my chest when I inhaled and a tingling sensation in my legs, my arms, my fingers. I’d vomit multiple times before lunch had hit, making me weak and shaky. I’d be yelled at to eat something constantly- repeatedly. Pacing and pacing the house I try to contain the increased panic in my mind. Checking the time panic would fade with distraction from chores and cleaning and then increase with the thought of what might happen later that night.
Being at a party or generally being around people, I worried that they would laugh at me or that I’d be left alone or that someone might want to talk to me. All of which I learnt to calm myself with by a flood of negative insults towards myself. I breathe deeply reminding myself that nothing can happen if I don’t speak, I won’t be humiliated. I remind myself that people might not notice I’m there so I can be assured no one will look at me- so no one could laugh at me. I remind myself that if I stay out of the way, I won’t do anything wrong and I won’t have to feel scared, so there can’t be any expectations of me. I tell myself that I’m not pretty enough for a boy to like me or notice me, so no one would kiss me.
It was all this negativity that I fed myself, to hate myself, that calmed and rationalised me going anywhere with people my age or older.

I sit on my bed tapping my pressure points, reminding myself that its okay, that I’ll be okay- but only believing it because I had lost all hope that I was going to see friends, to meet new people, to meet boys, to have ‘fun’ and laugh and drink and dance…
I was focused solely on getting there, getting over getting there, being there, dealing with where to sit to not involve myself to, to how to stop myself from vomiting and how I was going to get through this and be okay.
It would always get worse when I had to get in the car with my mum. I would become an emotional bubble waiting to burst. I would get so violently angry, trying to hold in all of my anxieties for what my parents thought was a fun night. I’d feel faint from not eating for 24 hours, in hopes I wouldn’t then be able to vomit to settle my mind. My leg would shake in the car, constantly tapping on the floor, my body would heat up trying to make me vomit again and again. I’d put the air conditioner on full, with the radio off- I’d snap at noise and sensitivity towards repetition of sounds and anything related to the cause of my anxiety. The closer I got to my friends house, the closer I was to being sick. I’d clench my jaw shut with the driest throat, I could dry retch at any second. Getting to the destination I’d always feel like crying when I got out of the car, so in turn I gave anger and frustration instead. I feel sorry that my parents had to deal with that every weekend, the same routine, I was so on edge.
My friends always made everything better, I love them for accepting me and I tried so hard to learn from them, to cope with these situations. I seen how excited they were, how fun this would be, but I always slipped back into my mind, of what could happen and the questions of my anxiety. And for what could have been hours of me not saying a word out loud, felt like a few seconds inside my head. I would disconnect myself from others just to address the panic in my mind, to calm myself of the worries, the what if’s and the nerves that I had built inside of me.

I can recognise now that it was and is humiliation and rejection that I constantly feared. I became so fixated on trying to deal with the anxieties that I pushed people away.

The more insignificant I made myself feel, the more comfortable I felt around people. To me the more I convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of good things, the more I convinced myself that I was unattractive and fat and boring and a shit person, the more accepting I would be if anyone was to tell me that is what I was. I wanted to prepare myself for what people would or could think of me, so that I wouldn’t be humiliated or ashamed or embarrassed, I’d be okay with the thought of being seen as ugly and fat and sad and anything else ‘bad’.

Because everyday I persuaded myself that its only me, no one is looking at me. Its only me, no one will be interested in me. Its only me and I don’t need to let anyone in.