Insult to Injury

How hard is it to understand that mental health problems don’t present in isolated events? That they bleed into each other and require recovery? That expecting me to do the tasks I normally fulfil is like asking someone who’s broken their leg to walk a marathon and god forbid they wear a cast.

It’s not that I don’t try, oh don’t I try, but willpower only gets you so far when you already have to drain it to not curl up in a ball and cry or hurt someone. Even verbalising my intent remains difficult because my brain is basically installing windows updates, but still, it gets some stuff done.

Focusing, even on stuff I enjoy, becomes exhausting. I’m in the permanent dilemma between ‘I’m too nauseous to eat’ and ‘I’m so hungry/Want food things’ and ‘No way I’m moving my ass from where I am right now’.


Status Quota

My idea of happiness used to be to not be depressed and suicidal and all the things I was when luck wasn’t on my side. I got what I asked for and even more. Like, sure, there have been truly awful things thrown my way regardless, but it’s drizzle compared to downpour. And now there is so much good, like Karma finally came around to resettle my balance; But I can’t enjoy it.

I can’t enjoy it because I’m not the only person whose luck has turned. Relationship troubles and breakups happen left and right. People lean on me, yet it feels different from when I was the more broken one. I try to keep silent about my success and glee because I know how much it hurt me when I was drowning in an ocean of sad.

A selfish person would enjoy themselves, but instead I feel guilty. I’d gladly give away my luck so that those around me could be happy. It doesn’t matter that’d realise my biggest fear of returning to how it was before, at least I know it. Good things don’t happen to me. I don’t know how to deal. I’m paranoid this is some kind of calm before the storm.

Now that I’m writing it all out I really hope I’m not coming off as greedy, because I am definitely not ungrateful. I feel undeserving, mostly. There is a small part of me yelling I deserved this like yesterday, but it’s nothing compared to this pessimism over positivity.

un-healthy coping mechnisms

I’ve been sick and obviously, I wanted to get better quickly, but I also didn’t. I wanted to remain sick so that I’d have an excuse to do nothing. I wanted to get better so I could get on with things. I’m so tired. I keep pushing myself and soon enough I’ll have to run a marathon’s worth of pushing myself and then there’s no more calling it quits whenever. I am not an endurance runner. More than anything I want to do nothing tomorrow, but I know that’s a bad idea. I feel like I’m not grieving enough/right and I’ve set up a likely trigger. Repressing has proved to be a shitty way to deal after all.

Crazy Painscale

I’m struggling with how I’m dealing with my grief; despite how horrible it is I still feel a thousand times better than when I was in my exam year… And that feels wrong. If I had to rate 0-10 it would probably be about a 6 or a 7? Whereas exam year was definitely an 11. I’m not saying I’m not hurting or that I didn’t love her, but with everything I’ve been through my standards are just so extreme. The fact that I even feel anything at all surprised me as a good sign. I’ve been numb so long, I thought I no longer had a shot at a normal emotional (reactionary) range. A sick twisted part of me still calls this whole thing Karma, telling me I have no right to the good things I’ve been experiencing. A naive innocent part of me still hasn’t fully accepted it, it expects to see her again. Once again I’m torn between myself but in a new somehow crueller way. Can’t I ever catch a break?