I know, not the most captivating title but I’m not sorry I didn’t come up with something better. That’s the best I could do anyway… So, again with the title, a little depressing but I’ve been meaning to elaborate to the world on my hopelessness and how wildly it sometimes makes me feel. For a precise elaboration, the term depressive is meant to bring insight to the fact that I don’t think that the drastic measures my mind seeks to end feelings in the likes of hopelessness is something that occurs in just any person’s mind. It takes a specific kind of sick to view shit the way I do, to want to solve issues the way I think makes sense which finally brings me to the highlight that the way I view or turn to resolving issues I go through isn’t similar for every person who struggles with mental issues. I was very precise in using the term ‘this’ to highlight that whatever I’m about to write is how I view things and how I feel towards them.

Besides it being a first for me to explain my title in detail, I just want to put it out there that I don’t intend to be metaphoric in my words today. I’m too hopeless as it is to wow anyone with my ‘great’ expressions of pain. I’m too drained out; that’s what feeling hopeless is about right? Feeling like there’s not a chance for anything good happening or punning out for you.. Yeah, sure sounds a lot like where I’m stuck at right now.

Where to start, not sure? A lot like everyone else, I had this grand plan for the beginning of the year but twenty days in, I’m willing ready to wrap this shit up. My needs are overwhelmingly piled up and I have no absolute means to meet each of them. To be frank, they aren’t some over the top things that I want but they are basic things that I need. I finish school in a three weeks time. I’ll be done with my diploma and where I’m from, the stereotype is that the end of one chapter or phase of life, is the absolute immediate beginning of another. No questions asked, no gap periods taken, its pretty much hopping from one wagon to the next at every stop. I’ve had it asked to me countlessly what I intended to do right after I’m done but I’ve pretty much got nothing besides heading home and working on my writing. I’m not upset about not having some grand plan to fall back on once school is done cause I genuinely need to ease off the pressure that’s been weighing in on me for a while now. What has me feeling a tad bit upset is those around me who feel like they are entitled to questioning me about what my plans are after school and why there are no immediate plans underway to get me a job. Like I’m not frustrated enough.

Feeling hopeless isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with. What can I say, I’ve got a history of things never punning out for me, not much of a surprise there… My hope is attached to the part of me that’s a christian, the part of me that believes in God therefore I rely on Him for my hopes and aspirations. I’m not knee deep into religion, I’m not even sure I’m religious but I am spiritual. Even for the most basic of things that I’d require luck, I still sorta run it through God in a verbal and brief way.. ‘Hey, I know I’ve not spoken to you in a while but could you please let me not fail in today’s paper, I’d be really grateful ‘…This will be my words pretty soon when I sit for my finals. I can’t say my mini prayers always go through as I want but I do know they are heard but being the human that I am, I am constantly asking for more and crossing my fingers that miraculously it will pun out as I want it to…

Weeks later….

I can’t even recall how long ago it was when I started this precise update and for sure is that I’ve lost my train of thought though not entirely, can’t say I’m any more hopeful than I was while writing this. To bring y’all to where I’m at now, I’m done with school…(cue the applause). Truthfully speaking, I wish that applause was more real than the one that goes on in my head everytime I think of the fact that I’m done with school… but away from that, it doesn’t really matter anymore that nobody recognized that me finishing school was more grand than anything for me, at least in my eyes it was…

Back to hopelessness, it’s still very much there…probably now more than ever. I’ve felt hopeless in ripples and it’s taken its toll and now it’s more of just a constant feeling that I’ve honestly become accustomed to. At first, I was sure it was gonna take me down the depression express but as I began to feel the wake of the dark season set in, I was like, am I honestly ready to deal with all the bullshit this early into the year, absolutely not. Therefore, I put on my big girl panties and decided I’d just let it roll off my back, cut out the things making me feel hopeless or better yet, assume their existence in my mind. I don’t dispute that I need to figure shit out but I won’t do it on the expense of my mind deteriorating. Truthfully speaking, I’m not ready to start fighting with myself and with whether it’s worth living through. So the hopelessness is still there, just tucked away for a later time…

I’m back, in less than two hours. That’s what writers block does to someone, when you start after such a while, you feel like you need to recap everything. So here I am, in a more calmer state of mind, the speediness I was feeling earlier now more simmered down. I’m grateful for feeling it though, it didn’t give me a chance to over think and overly assess whether what I wanted to write was worthy enough for a blog update. It might not have been my vision for a New Year’s blog update but as I’ve come to decide, I don’t need to drastically change things about myself or how I do things just cause of the notion that the new year automatically means everything new. So I will anticipate to change over the year but will try not get myself worked up over it. (que anxiety,”easier said than done “)A lot like everyone else, I have ambitions for what I wanna achieve in the new year. Sounds very business like but it’s just stuff I wanna do to better myself. Like for starters, I wanna get back onto the tattoo wagon. I’d decided at the end of 2019 that I’d take a break from getting any more tattoos over the year 2020 and I actually pulled that off. I’m guessing it was mainly due to how unexpected the year turned out but regardless, I’m grateful I was able to see that decision through. Therefore now, I feel ready enough to start getting new ink and rocking it. My choice of ink previously has always been more of sentimental & special to me but this time round, I wanna do more spontaneous & adventurous kind of ink. My sister tells me that my ink isn’t truly baddas just because it’s too sentimental and emotional; not that I regret any of it, I just think it would be nice to have a few spontaneous tattoos that don’t have to have a sentiment behind them. The sentiment this time could be cause I thought they were cool and aesthetically pleasing to look at. I guess wanting this for me is part of trying to live a little, at least beyond the confines of what is my normal which in the case of tattoos has always been deep sentimental value. I don’t intend to get ink that will be meaningless or that I just got out of a whim but I do want to get ink that years down the line when one of my kids probably wants to get a tattoo of their own, I can tell them that it’s fine and I can show them mine but still explain why I got it in the first place. Even if the explanation is that I thought it was cool. Props to wanting to be the cool mum.

Apart from ink, I might just have finally found a solution that will save me from having to go to the salon every other month and won’t need me to shave off my growing hair. I’ve had short hair since 2018 and from around mid 2019 I quit shaving it and began growing it out again. It has been a tedious task since I have what I believe is type 4C hair, fully African. Not the easiest to grow out and definitely not the easiest to tame. I’ve had an Afro since the beginning of last year and it was a lot but I enjoyed embracing my natural hair. It was liberating in a sense. Now though, I recently started plaiting it out which is fun and all apart from the fact that it’s costly which is mainly one of the reasons I shaved to begin with. But now, I just might have figured out how to have the best of both worlds, have plaited hair and not have to shit a ton of money for it. Temporary Dreadlocks. I acknowledge that I’m possibly late at finding out about them but I think it’s extremely advantageous to have them. I weirdly have never taken a liking to dreadlocks whether permanent or temporary before, until I recently saw someone with them and they looked bombass and it got me thinking of whether it would be a good look on me. So now, I want it to be the next new look for me. Temporary dreadlocks go for at most ten months and all they need is renewal which is cost friendly. It’s truly a win win for anyone. I hope to look good in them and be stress free for those months that I’ll have them on. If I like them and look good in them, they might turn out to be my new normal for a long time to come. (p.s for anyone who’d like to get them, they are also a very protective style for your hair which is what we strive for, ladies especially)

Something else that I feel I’ve had as some kind of resolution for at most two years now is getting over my fear of wearing dresses. I’ve rocked a few dresses over the past two years and I’ve looked good in them, might I say so myself but on most days, my anxiety gets the best of me and my subconscious doesn’t let me leave the house in a dress because I’m extremely self conscious of my body. Being plus size for me is still something I’m learning to embrace; a step at a time. This year though, I truly do want to work on wearing more fitting and pretty dresses; getting my girly girl on. It will take me giving myself quite a few pep talks but I want to get over the fear that everyone is looking at me or that I probably look weird and the shaping of my body isn’t the right one for dresses… It’s a whole lot of insecurities but I wanna overcome them little by little.

At the end of last year, I got to travel to one of my favourite places in Nairobi which is the giraffe center and it’s always fun for me being outdoors especially in nature where I can interact with wild animals. It brought about the need to travel more which I hope to do as well in this new year. I have no specific place I’d want to travel to but I do want to expand my social life beyond the four walls of my house. With me completing school this year, I will probably have too much time on my hands and I don’t want to spend it all copped up in the house, as much as I may be introverted. I want to at least travel locally to new places and create beautiful memories, even meet new people as scary as that may be for me. You can very much say that I have no social life whatsoever and I wanna work on fixing that.

To add on to trying to get a social life, it will probably require me to be less of a loner and mingle more with people. As unbelievable as it is for an introvert, I do want to create new relationships with new Genuine people. Highlight on the word genuine because I honestly rather remain friendless than have fake friends with foul intentions. I’m grateful for those who I have but I’d like to broaden my circle a little. This last couple of months has given me a lot to think about on who I consider true friends and those who have entirely just been draining the life out of me. I’ve had occasions of serious disappointment towards friends I thought had my back but revealed they didn’t and it’s disheartening. I don’t have a number of how many friends I’d like to gain, one would be perfect actually. All I want is a real, raw and genuine friend who’ll have my back and I’ll have theirs. Who’s intentions in my life won’t be based on gaining anything in return but one who will care for my well being as I will for theirs. I know it sounds simple but in the real sense it isn’t. Along the same line of thought, I want to be more expressive of my actual feelings and intentions with people. I no longer want people to assume that just cause I hate confrontation, that I’m okay with being a pushover. I don’t want that shit flying with me again. I’ve been a pushover for so long just because I can’t tell someone that they have pissed me off or that they said something to me that didn’t sit well with me… I need to be comfortable with making others uncomfortable as long as they are aware that I won’t be sidelined or made to feel inferior by their opinions of who they think I am or should be. I’ve gotten immensely hurt by both family and friends dishing out their opinions over shit they shouldn’t have opinions over about myself. So what if I have a few scars, don’t mention it to me just because you think highlighting it will make me feel guilty just cause I put them there.(Trigger warning) My mental health isn’t up for discussion if I haven’t brought it up. I don’t want to discuss it with anyone just to feed their curiousity of how it feels to be a cutter. It’s not anyone’s business, regardless of whoever you think you are to me. So no more taking bullshit this year. I know it won’t be easy just coming right out and being brave enough to confront someone when they make me upset or feel uncomfortable but I sure as hell will try making them aware that it isn’t alright and that I don’t like it. This I promise to myself that I will stand up for myself, even if it means loosing friends and family.

..and finally, this year I intend to better myself at being a writer. It’s a passion of mine and I want to not care about perfecting it but more of being genuine in it and as raw as I can get. Words are magical and it’s relieving and liberating for me when I write. I have a few personal projects I hope to work on this year in terms of writing and you’ll just have to stick around to see, that’s for anyone who likes or enjoys to read what I write.So there we have it, my ambitions for the new year. Resolutions sounds too technical for me therefore mine are ambitions. I will give it everything I’ve got to achieve most if not all of them. I’ll be sure to keep you on the loop, at least for anyone who feels invested.

I truly applaud anyone who can maintain even just a fraction of themselves when battling depression. Just watched this video of a lady on her YouTube channel talking about how it’s been tough on her recently and she’s been feeling like she’s uncertain of who she is anymore. I gotta give it to her though, she looks so put together & preppy, at least from my frontal view of her… But even on a general note, it’s mad impressive how anyone who’s self aware of their depression could have the ability to maintain themselves with acts as simple as having their hair done or having make up on & dressing up. As for other cases, like myself, I can hardly gather myself enough to take a shower on most days, let alone worry about my hair. I’ve not looked ‘picture perfect’ for myself or anyone else for about four months now. I’m what you’d call a slob and honestly, I’ve got no motivation to change that. I think it’s enough that I get to have to live through each day only to have it repeat itself on the very next day. That’s all the motivation I got, at least for now it’s all the motivation I need.I’d take breaking down & crumbling over whatever it is I’m feeling right now. Maybe finally breaking would force out my recovery process . I’d take breaking down over this void feeling inside me. I can feel every little inch of me die a little each day. The unsettling feeling in my gut that just won’t let me live enough to have the will to fight. I’m not entirely sure what I’m fighting for anymore. That’s just the battle, fighting against myself over a person I’m no longer sure I recognize anymore.But maybe there’s hope.. Even though I may not fully see it now, I’ll fight to feel it. I’ve been off therapy for a month now cause I traveled home. I know I need to get back on the therapy wagon therefore I called my therapist earlier today and she gave me the small glimmer of hope I’m feeling right now. I suppose her reassurance that she’s still with me through this was well needed and I’m grateful for it. I’ve not felt reassured over anything for a while now therefore I relish the new found feeling. I wish I had the right words to explain to anyone how hard it is to see hope when all there is around you is darkness. I envy those who’ve gone through depression & mental struggles and have stood up to say they beat it. I can only assume it took effort to get to such a position. I compromise myself a lot when it comes to having any kind of hope over anything in my life. Truth be told, I beat myself down more than any depression does.I’m a compilation of zero to no self esteem which when I think about, has been me for all my life. I don’t know what it’d be like to stare at myself in the mirror & truly appreciate the reflection staring back at me. I have always subconsciously been aware that my effort to stand out to anyone or even to myself has been on a bare minimum. I’ve always been okay being at the back & hidden from the world cause it’s always felt safer for me. I’ve always been behind this wall where letting anyone in has always been close to impossible. It’s not until recently that I got to learn that I shouldn’t be comfortable being in the back hiding. My therapist brought it to my attention that there could be a lot more of myself that I haven’t given the chance to exist. A lot more that could mean better & greater than all I have ever been and known. Maybe despite everything, I still have a shot at more than just being alive.

I always thought that the reason I felt the most motivated to write is when I was down..well, I’m here to correct that because I can say with enough conviction that I’ve never been lower in my life than I am now. I thought that the depression I felt before was severe , I was wrong. It’s been fifteen days since I started taking antidepressants and let me say, I’ve been on a rollercoaster that’s borderlined insanity for me. I have never felt more alone, hollow & hopeless like I have this past two weeks. I was forced to stare at the ugliness of what depression can really put one through and let me say, it’s nothing less than hideous. It’s showed me how dreadful it is & sunk me deeper into it in a way I have never felt. I am guessing y’all are wondering why I’m saying this when antidepressants are meant to make things easier.. I thought the same too until they were finally in my system and it’s been chaos ever since .Nobody coached me on what it would mean to be under antidepressants. For starters, I’m so sad right now & about every other minute I am alone with my mind. This is the kind of sadness that’s brought me to the brim of looking at a life without myself in existence. It has made me contemplate how irrelevant my existence is and how much right now I feel more of a burden than a relevant human being. I’ve isolated myself from everyone cause I am just not sure anybody is ready to see how damaged I am or how broken I’ve gotten . I’m a shell of the already messed up person I was before. The constant darkness surrounding my mind, my thoughts & feelings is enough to darken a galaxy. I knew well enough that I’d feel numb when taking antidepressants but it’s not the nice kind ,this one suffocates you and wrings the ever living life outta you.Nobody mentioned the crazy mood swings that I’ve gotten to feel first hand…The bouts of anger that sprout out of nowhere and cripple me from having any interaction with anyone in the fear I’ll blow up on them. There are moments when I am not sure whether I’m feeling at all. It’s forcing me to push people away so that I’ll not have to tangle them along in my misery. All to the moments when all I can think about is the rippling feeling of a blade on my skin that’s akin to a breathe of fresh air in my lungs. Honestly I don’t think there’s much good that’s come from taking this meds, or better yet, I’m just too broken to be fixed...and finally, the weight gain. I was scared of that when I first heard I’d be going under antidepressants and I can confirm that my fears about it were valid. I’m too scared to know how much weight I’ve gained over those two weeks cause despite the constant darkness surrounding my mind, I can’t seem to shake off the constant hunger this medicine has brought about. I’m nearly constantly hungry half the time I’m awake which is a symptom of the precise medicine I’m taking. I thought I could have a hold on it and eat moderately but it’s hard, I swear it’s hard. If I could rip this urge out, I would but again, I don’t know where to start. I’m just so tired. I’m exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. I’m drained from the mere struggle it is to have the will to live & simply survive. I am not writing this for pity, I very well don’t need it. I just wish I could have someone who understands exactly what it’s like for me right now, someone who isn’t just seeing this but is looking at this and listening to what it is I’m relaying. I just need one person to tell me it’s not over for me yet…

Weeks later, I am where I thought I wanted to be. I thought that if I got here I’d be better. I walked into it blindly but with hope that some light would be shed into the darkness that’s been my home for so long. So here I am… So what next…?

It’s been hard finding this niche that drives me to write. It’s hard enough that I can’t force it even when I am in desperate need to let out the turmoil that currently goes on in my head. I no longer keep track of how long it’s been since I wrote, I just know its been long enough. I’m in limbo right now. My state of mind is unknown. I guess it’s part of the new feeling that comes with taking antidepressants. Can you believe it? We are at antidepressants now… I have to latch on meds for help in dealing with whatever goes wrong with me. I still feel like I don’t know exactly what that is but maybe progressively I will find out what plagues me.

So here I am, five days in since I started on my ‘happy pills’…Truth be told, I don’t feel so happy or nice to say the least. I know I’m not supposed to judge them so soon but it’s inevitable not to. I feel like shit right now. I’ve been doing my research on the precise medicine I was given and guess what, I’m not sure if they are meant to help me, or get me quicker to being suicidal. I have never been suicidal before & I know that might not seem to be the case due to my self harming ways but they don’t mean that I want to end my life. At least for me they don’t. They just mean I survive painfully enough to want to live. I don’t expect everyone or anyone for that matter to understand that. Recently actually, I have come to experience stigmatization in a form I never anticipated. It took me off guard since it was from a family member who I don’t blame for their lack of understanding on my struggles. I guess I just never fully anticipated ever being stigmatized over something I have absolutely no control over.

As I’ve mentioned before, I feel like shit. Day one on my meds, I was high as a fucking kite. I got so drowsy, lost every sense of coordination & balance .I was knocked out in a couple minutes. My body was adjusting to the foreign entity in its system. With the exact type of medicine I am taking, it’s meant to take care of the depression & insomnia. I don’t necessarily consider myself an insomniac, I just have a terrible sleep pattern that is inconsistent. Day two, I opted to skip on one of my pills. I’m meant to take two in a day, morning & nighttime..but on the occasion that it’s too strong for me to handle in the day, I can take one pill before bed everyday. Now to day five, I am sure I am depressed which I’m not surprised since its a side effect of the medication. I know, I’m confused too. The medicine is meant to help me cope with the said depression, not add on to it. I wish I could understand remotely what is going on but I don’t . All I know is that, I’m five days in with this antidepressants & I feel a tad bit worse than I was before. So yeah, I’m not gonna throw in the towel & quit taking it, no, I’ll wait it out and see how things go. Maybe it gets worse before it gets better.

I feel extremely hyper aware of my problems right now.. Not just mentally but even those that are happening beyond my mind. It’s devastating feeling this helpless and not knowing where to start. Nobody ever tells you how lonely depression makes you feel, it won’t let you bring anyone down with you because it’s quick to remind you that its your problem, no one else’s. Its crippling & isolating enough to have you convinced that nobody can nor will understand what you are going through. I have never felt more alone in this world than I do now. The stigma, the shame and everything else attached to depression is the weight on my shoulders that I’ve gotta carry. So you know what, I’d never wish this on anyone. Nobody deserves to have their mind as their biggest fear.

Allow me not to be ‘remotely perfect‘ right now. To not be articulate with my words for I’m certain I don’t have the right words to express exactly what I’m going through. I’ve racked my mind and sort through it of ways to express what I am constantly feeling but I’ve come short of words. Ironic really cause words are always all I ever have.I can’t afford the standards I usually often put for myself whenever I write. I can’t promise I’ll complete this post or that it’ll make any sense or that it’ll mean anything at all. I’m just taking a shot at hoping that whatever I pour out will slightly ease the emptiness & hollow feeling that’s becoming of me. I wish I was numb. I truly do. I wish I wasn’t feeling or itching or urging for the things that are enveloping me right now. I feel wrong, I feel torn & more now detached from reality than ever before… cause this, this shouldn’t be my reality.I’ve read it over and over again but it gives me no comfort to read ‘it’s okay to not be okay’. I don’t want to not be okay. I don’t want to find comfort from accepting that I feel destroyed. I don’t want to feel any comfort anymore in my pain. No words known to me can measure up to what I feel. None can describe how paralyzed I feel & how immobilized my state of mind is.I’ve thought that maybe if I could rip off my hand, I’d have nothing left to hurt. That if I could finally chop it off, it’ll kill the urge to constantly look at my self inflicted scars. Or that maybe if I wrap them up, I’ll no longer have to feel the ridges everytime I graze my palm on my wrist. I’m trying, I’m battling but I can’t promise I’m winning.So to conclude whatever this post is, I’m breathing through surviving. I’m a shell of myself & a lot of the questions I have tried asking myself as to how to get out of this, I have no answers to. I hope it’s no burden to anyone who reads this. It’s heavy, like every other feeling in my life and I would hate to burden anyone else with my being. So I apologize. I apologize that I’m a 🐚 of who I hope to be.

I’ve racked my mind of where I can say this without the fear of judgement, pity or any consolation.. I honestly don’t need or want anything of that right now. Not when I’m so deep in my depression. I’m not sure if I should be alarmed that I’m finally thinking of death and just throwing in the towel. Earlier I shamed myself over how I can’t even put a deep enough insition on myself… now, I’ve rid myself of that shame cause I can assure you, I have a cut that won’t be healing anytime soon. It hurt easier to see the blood trickle down my wrist than having to feel the ache inside my chest and the sorrow that only I seem to understand.

This isn’t a post or an entry. No, I just needed to let it out. This isn’t a cry for help, no…I’m too far gone to be worth help. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. It’s safe here enough for me to admit that I self harmed and it helped. That I got the relief I so desperately needed. Thought that maybe I could tweet it but my sister is on my timeline, she’ll see it and that’s absolutely the last thing I need right now. I would be scared that she’ll see this post but she quit reading my blog when it got to heavy for her to read of her baby sister’s troubles. I don’t blame her, I’m glad she doesn’t have to see the damage I’ve become.

..and lastly, I sit in bed in the dark, all I wish I had right now was if my demon could just for tonight, hold me. Just that…wrap it’s arms around me cause it’s all I’m assured that knows how I feel. I’m tired and just want to be held. I hope I’m not asking for too much.

Been a while.. I wish I could say I have something valid or an intense rant to go on about but honestly, just too many feels are swirling in my mind right now. I feel like I’ve just been heavy the last month and it just is slowly draining me & leaving me without much to offer anyone or myself in the least. Ever just wanted that deep exhale ?… that’s pretty much what I need right now or currently… I’ve lost trust this last month, I’ve lost hope, I’ve lost focus, I’ve lost strength and will …i feel like I’m in that space of mind where I’ve given so much, I’m an empty vessel.My depression is lurking and its dark looming presence doesn’t feel so far away….but when is it ever. I call bullshit that I’m gonna try beat the damn thing cause maybe it just might be what I need right now for me to just shut down & reboot…. I hate having expectations cause I get disappointed every other time when I hope that they are gonna be fulfilled but are not. Having relationships in life can do that to a person. So yeah, I welcome the darkness cause I need the walls back. I need in my cage to silence the ever noisy world that is out to fix me to fit the picture perfect human. Maybe I just don’t wanna be fixed…at least not just yet. Greatest mystery should be whether there’s a sense of Stockholm syndrome for patients who cling to their depression.Everything this past month has felt like a trigger for me. I’ve nearly tipped over cause of the sadness & gloom that’s been in the air and maybe that’s what I need to stop feeling scared of, tipping over to my dark sea. At least if I drown, I get the still & calm I’ve been yearning for. It’s probably gonna be a bloody mess but sometimes it’s just the price I gotta pay for the silence.“I try and I try but I’m too sad to cry. I’m not suicidal, sometimes the lines just get all blurry. Yesterday I tried to pray, I just didn’t know what to say. I don’t like to talk, just rather stay in my bed . Lied to my doctor, she knows I was faking, gave me some pills but I’m too scared to take them, I try and I try but I’m too sad to cry. ” Sasha Sloan

Is it worth it?? That’s what I’m asking myself right now cause I’m in a bubble that’s pretty different from my normal mental darkness . I’m even scared to say the H word cause I may jinx whatever it is that’s happening right now. For those who may not be following up, the H word is happiness in this case. Not too long ago I wrote about how hard it is for me to understand the concept that is happiness and when exactly one can fully say they are happy with everything that’s going on for them. I’m yet to get there….still have a lot of demons who are allergic to anything remotely good for me, therefore tend to bring out my not so favourite friend who goes by the name Anxiety.

Not to dwell too much so not to fuck it up, I’m at a better place than I usually tend to be. Something has changed that I won’t go into but it’s a significant change that’s been happening for me. I’m so worried that I’m being gullible and naive over it and letting my very betrayable feelings guide me in this case. I don’t sit well with change, of whichever kind. Bad change just sort makes things more aggravated for me. Good change is what I fear most. It tends to have your expectations higher and your judgement easily swayed. It never lasts long ; always just a matter of time before the real darkness makes itself known in whatever good change was happening. So change for me simply doesn’t work out the best . I’m transitioning currently & it’s a wild ride that is exciting, exhilarating and a whole lot more fun than I ever have had on any day. Million dollar question ; Is it worth it?

Someone close to me told me that the world doesn’t know how dark and twisted it gets when I am in my lows mentally. The lengths it takes me to pick myself up from the self induced depression and anxiety I struggle with. That’s why it has me thinking, is this sense of joy & contentment worth it, if at all there stands a chance of me completely falling back to my dark place. Could I be convincing myself that it’s not just a matter of time, that whatever I have going on won’t be my ultimate downfall ?That I may finally have my last straw and loose myself in my own demons if things go wrong at the end. Am I able to pull the plug with my mental state in one complete form or will I be in pieces unrecognizable to even myself?

It scares me. Everything downright scares me shitless. On one hand, I don’t want to not live because I wasn’t strong enough to try and fail or try and win. But I’m also not gonna deceive myself by ignoring the fact that I’m not mentally capable like everyone else. My mind doesn’t function like everyone else’s… Will I need two or three more therapists to get me out of my personal mental hell if I continue giving myself a chance to live without the certainty of the consequences of my actions. I have walls built up so high, you’d think I’m a castle… Is it worth it, peeking out to see if I’ll survive beyond the walls that my mind have convinced me are there to protect me despite being well aware I’m a prisoner instead. It’s a hard risk to take….A very dangerous one too. Asking myself how worth it it is may be the wrong question all together… Maybe what I should be asking is if I can handle it whether I’m in it or not.. ?

I had all this planned out in my head & I had the words spilling out of me a second ago, but now I’m pretty sure all my words are out the window. I should probably start by admitting that I’m one walking confusion. I’m worse than a wave because my ‘tide’ just never seems to hit any less harder at any one moment. I don’t have a calm is what I’m trying to say. In less than a week since I wrote, I feel like I’ve felt everything & it’s breaking down my walls. That, is some scary shit right there. I’ve been told time and again how much my walls don’t protect me but instead they cage me in and imprison me. What most people don’t realize, is that I don’t mind being caged if it means I can shield any sort of ‘ray of sunshine ‘ that’s gonna start of nice & calm and in the long run, it’s gonna scotch me just cause I let myself think I deserved it.

I apologize for my sacarstic metaphoric nature here. To down it down a little, what I’m simply trying to say is that over time, I’ve learned to embrace how diversely fucked up I am. Trying to cut myself some slack by thinking I can change that that’s become my nature, only ever does more harm than good. Humans are scared of change. Probably the one other thing I can say I relate to that proves my humanity isn’t all that different from the rest of the human race. I feel like I’m caught between worlds right now. I’m in a realm of my own and in time, I’ll need to jump out of it. I’m just not certain where to jump to and what it might mean for my bleak mind .

Emotions are deceiving. I can honestly say that is one thing I have come to learn the hard way. They blind you from reason, even if it’s right in front of you. I want to jump where my emotions are telling me that the ride of a lifetime is right ahead & maybe, just maybe, in the midst of the black hole I’ve been falling in for so long, there’s some ray of light. But I’m scared, petrified even . Jumping or in this case free falling with the hope of not feeling any more pain is a risk I’m not sure is worth taking. The outstretched hand that is reaching out for me to just grab onto it has me tempted to pee in my knickers… Then there’s the other jump, that really won’t be much of a jump since it won’t need me to leave my ‘prison’. It assures me that I won’t have to feel pain further than I am accustomed to. It assures me that nothing will change. I’ll be behind bars that will close off any scorching rays or unfulfilled hopes of any light at the end of my hollow black 🕳. It assures me no sense of change, cause it’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

I don’t wanna ever say that I failed cause I never gave hope a shot. I don’t know how long I have before I have to jump or before ‘my walls’ are penetrated (oh that sounded so wrong 😬😂) but I know stalling won’t cut it for me. I could either embrace the change and run the risk of completely loosing my mind at the end, or I could live to wonder whether things would have been different if I did jump. I know that outstretched hand won’t always be there, and as much as it scares me to reach out to it, it’s beginning to scare me more to loose it.