It gets better… and then what?

When you’re used to everything being negative or plain too much it’s a really weird experience to escape it. The dream fulfilled never feels quite as sweet as how you imagined it, does it now?

Getting better is hard.

First, it gets worse, as you realise everything that’s wrong with you, everything that’s causing it, and everything you have to change. Sometimes knowing why things fuck you up and why you display fucked up behaviour in return is worse than what’s actually wrong. At least, that’s my experience. Out of your comfort zone and uncomfortably aware of what’s still wrong you might find you feel like you can’t play your own part in the play anymore. People have expectations of you which you don’t meet anymore and you might have dropped ancient habits or hobbies. It’s terrifying and freeing to cut out the external factors.

Secondly, you make progress, you feel happier. It’s not constant, but more and easier than you ever expected at your lowest. You’ve run into things you wish you could delete from your life but you still depend on them. You confront them by playing the same old dance, but not getting as affected by it. Still, there’s this empty. You have more energy and time, where do you leave it? There is so much since you need less to do the same things and stopped doing some. Hobbies? They’re just not the same, you used them as distractions and coping mechanisms and it’s sorta tainted. Only some specific prospects in your hobbies such as the release of a new game even get you to engage anymore. So much boredom. It’s a dangerous thing when being alone in your head isn’t completely safe yet.

I haven’t gotten to thirdly or lastly yet. I was heading there when my aunt got worse and passed away. Grief’s pretty good at setting you back. I’m lucky to, through it, have found a secure future which even includes someone I love. I’m still healing, not through love like shitty romcom movies pretend, but it certainly helps to have a stable loving environment 90% of the time (compared to like 1 maybe 2% at my lowest).


Frenzy before the storm

I’m going to crash soon, I can feel it coming. It’s never quiet before I do, in fact, the same old problems resurface and start spitting venom again. I’m trying not to listen and so far I’ve mostly been fine, but it’s exhausting and hinders anything else I try to do. Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to not fight it. Would it lead to smaller crashes that still leave me able to do things? Or do I need a major crash so that I can be free of everything for a while? There’s still so much about myself I’ve to learn. I always used to do things one way as it was all I knew and now… now I’m starting to question things. Why are they the way they are? Why do I react like I do? How does that affect everything? How can I make it easier on my environment? How can they make it easier for me?

I wish I was more stable. Riding these mood & hormone swings is anything but fun.

Nothing ever goes according to plan.

I can feel the personality tear clear as day, my thoughts jump around, contrast, and conflict. My actions confuse people and the wrong truths bleed through my mask. I find myself arguing with this “other side” or referring to me and it as we, which tbh isn’t new.

I’m so tired of being my own worst enemy. I can’t even begin to imagine what I’m capable of if I wasn’t held back by all this. And people already think I’m smart :’). Okay, that’s a little conceited.

So much of what I mention here is enough to have people declare me insane, in need of medical attention. I hide, but that only makes it harder. I’m not as high function as I make people believe.

Ugh, if only the conditions for me to work efficiently weren’t so specific and at times random.

Recipe for Suicide


Cross the

Roads of nightmares
Rivers of pain
Ridges of abuse
Ravines of substances

Collect the

Smell of despair
Sound of broken dreams
Sight of eternity

Combine with

Taste of loneliness
Touch of exhaustion

Cook slowly

Final of the steps


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?