I smoke among the dead at night. Most people would be shaken at the thought of that mere occurrence but I’m not. When I think of it now, I wonder why that little aspect of things has never really phased me considering I have been out there at the wee hours of the morning. My mind has fears of its own, dead people just isn’t one of them.
Maybe it is the silence that calms me. It sure isn’t the cigarettes I’m taking twice a night and four times a day. Or maybe it could be the darkness of the dead of night that gives me a sense of resemblance. It shows me that the darkness inside couldn’t possibly be that scary, at least not scary enough to stop me from staring at it alone, with the company of the seven gravesites in the backyard of my balcony. How about, it could also be that those dead folks who are buried there can feel my silent screams from the inside every night as I exhale the smoke out of my lungs. I try not to cough, we have a no sound policy out there when it’s just our souls that seem to come alive.
I hope they know of the nights that I wish I was in there with them, buried under the soil to where it is said to be peaceful. The adage, ‘’rest in peace’’ had to have had a mild relevance to the fact that besides your soul, your body and mind too can rest on the ground six feet under where not a beep of the darkness of depression can touch you. I smoke in the midst of the dead. I feel nothing and everything the darkness has to offer. I welcome it with open arms just as I do with every inhale and exhale of the cigarettes that lay print of their smoke in the middle of my fingers.
What scares you the most about yourself? What’s that one aspect that you know deep down brings you shivers just thinking of it especially if you tapped into it? Well, I don’t expect all of you to have one but I sure do know I have mine.
If there is one thing I have really never been good at is explaining it out to people what kind of a person I am. I’m never quite certain whether I’m an introvert or whether am shy because as much as most times I do feel introverted or shy, it’s not all the time and that’s what makes it really hard to explain what kind of person I am.Hence forth ,I’ll be sure not to give a definite answer to that question in relation to myself. Though, despite it all, I do have one thing I’m largely certain about..its the dark aura I’m surely aware I’m drawn to. Can’t really tell when I realized that it’s quite a significant aspect about myself that doesn’t stand out to my public side but more of my very personal side. Maybe it was from the times as a child I never truly felt like I fit in with others because my aura naturally was withdrawn from everyone or it could be the countless times I looked up dark aesthetics on Pinterest felt a sense of contentment or it could be when I truly learned & felt what depression feels like especially when it’s looking you straight in the face with your reflection on it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was when I first felt the need for my death. I can’t quite place where I first felt the dark aura that looms and lurks somewhere at the back of my mind.
Having it doesn’t always mean I’m always consciously aware of it. Most people wouldn’t even tell that’s it there with me because it hasn’t taken root in my public scene. Though despite it being hidden, I can certainly say that it has affected other different aspects of myself like with the kind of man I want as a partner & spouse, with the type of sexual intrigue that appeals to me, to maybe I finding black quite naturally a beautiful colour and even as far as my career choice as well as other countless other things I’m still learning about myself .It sure is a part of me ,that I know. Question is, am I afraid of it…??
Would you be afraid of you being a joyous person or an extroverted person? Same case applies here.Do I have reason to be afraid that I am closeted dark goddess in the inside, not to me at least.. Its thrilling to be honest. It’s like my connection to my alter ego.The darkness I feel makes the public me completely worlds apart from the private . Its the bridge that divides two very different aspects of myself. It actually makes me happy to be different and it makes me yearn to connect to people I don’t often conform to on a normal basis. It allows me to intellectually think differently from most people and I gain momentum from that.
The most its ever been outwardly prominent is when I was struggling with my depression a couple months ago. To be quite honest, I was scared of it then cause I didn’t quite know how to maneuver around with it without letting suck me in. Pardon me for making it sound a lot like a spirit but then, it sorta felt like one. Most times people who haven’t experienced any kind of mental illness can’t quite understand what I mean but for someone who has remotely struggled with any sort of mental illness would know. I believe it’s different for everyone who’s been at that dark low point of their lives. Well, for me it was also quite a messy experience. It wasn’t the dark aura that I feel now, it was intoxicatingly dangerous. It fed off my fears and insecurities quite a lot and it suffocated me slowly from the inside out. It got me so low, low to the point suicide wasn’t too far fetched . It convinced me there was not much light at the end of the tunnel. Left me nursing separation anxiety and general anxiety of when things take the slightly turn for the worst. It got darker than it should have.
For now, I have it in check. I wouldn’t wanna change it about myself for anything. It makes me feel special and its unique having it and knowing its something that’s a part of you. I’m still on edge with loosing myself too much in it but I keep it at bay. It’s my year to bloom everything about myself, even the dark.. ✌🏿
I’m different. Am sure we all consider ourselves so not because just because we want to feel special but because we are actually different. Being different for me is a lifestyle. I have to constantly try to maintain it and blend in even despite how different I am. I am different because I don’t conform to what people regard as normal. Am I happy to be this different, I don’t know .Does a part of me thrive in it, definitely so …..I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t.I don’t believe ultimate peace is something I have possibly ever felt. A part of me is always damned to feel turmoil and anxiety over one thing or another. I do wish though I had one ability. Something I recently pondered my mind over and now looks quite appealing to my me. Ever thought of how peaceful it is under water. How calm and silent it is and just how peaceful it can get. I wish I could breathe underwater and just sit still enough to shut out everything and anything. I’m certain enough that some of you that will read through this will probably think that I’m back to my depressive past and am not gonna justify whether it’s true or not… Think whatever appeals to you.Silence is peaceful and so is death. I wouldn’t want to die through water. I feel like its probably the worst way to die because you can’t fight it, you feel the life drain out with each breath of water as it fills your lungs. In water, I would hope to find contentment. I would hope to let my anxiety over everything go, to be still and not worry about. To completely rid myself of meager feelings and emotions that are more of burdens than a boost of my humanity. To put aside memories that do more damage than good. I wish breathing underwater would do that for me. That would be my ultimate peace.Being melancholic is hard. I feel everything thats meant to be dark. I revel in it even when it’s toxic. Walls so high up, they feel unpenetratable(not sure that’s a word.)I over think, I feel too much and I sure as hell damn care too much. Water would drown out all that for me. That’s why if I had one super power, it would be to breathe underwater 🌊.
It’s seems like it was so long ago since I used this as the only platform to express how bad my depression was seven months ago. Quite a dark time that was and I am grateful that I came out of it unharmed and stronger. Trust me when I say, I was a hundred % sure I wouldn’t find my way out of that darkness that I had completely wrapped myself around and tightly held on to like a second skin. I was no longer scared of the pain I was feeling, instead I had embraced it and it became a part of me. I can’t tell honestly how I was able to pick myself up from that dark funk but I know a big part of it was me going for my therapy sessions that then felt like they were weighing me down more than lifting me up. I have a lot to be thankful for my therapist, she is amazing and is secretly my best friend though I don’t think she knows that quite yet 💁….
My life post my depression has been okay. I have been slowly picking pieces of myself and trying to put together the right spots to fill up the darkness that had resided there previously. Can’t say its easy because I’m trying not to fall back to the unfortunate comfort of sadness that comes with depression. I try always keeping my emotions in check and not allowing them to take a toll on me as much. I still see my therapist, probably will for the rest of my life because I choose to. At the moment I gotta admit am very reliant on her for when things get a bit overwhelming for me…like recently, I’m struggling with a bit of my past but I’m not about to make this update more depressing by bringing it up .Just a quick last word on it, if you feel like your emotions and thoughts are overtaking the person that you believe you are and they are playing a negative role on you, please seek help. Mental health is as a essential as physical health. If your feel like your not in a right space with your emotions and thoughts, please please seek help.
I love this space about my blog because it allows me to be honest with both the good, the bad, the sexy and the nasty. I believe I’m one contrasting human being. I am legitimately scared of being lonely and being alone .Am also very comfortable with pushing people away. See what I mean when I say I’m quite the contradictory human species. I don’t know if it’s quite supposed to be like that or that I am just wired that way. My fear of being on my own became prominent after my mum passed away. Then is when I couldn’t stand being on my own because I sure as hell wasn’t used to it when my mum was always around. I went to highschool and not only now was I feeling alone but I learned what loneliness feels like. They became such constant feelings of mine I hated every second of it. Lonely because nobody gave a shit enough to know that my life felt like the greatest misery in existence. Alone because I was just not good enough for people. So there began one of my greatest fears. And now que pushing people away… I build walls so high up that castle walls seem like nothing. My therapist countlessly reminds me of that. That I don’t allow people to get too close and therefore the walls I’ve built keep people just close but not close enough to go beyond my walls.
I carry a scar that will never heal and even if it does, it will always once so often gush open itself. I don’t know know how long it will ever take me to let myself go or be happy without looking over my shoulder for the next great pain waiting to knock me off my feet. I keep hearing people say happiness is a choice and I don’t honestly think so. I believe it’s an attitude instead. I don’t know how to get it or what in my life will deem worthy for me to regard as my sources of happiness. I don’t always want to be alone. I don’t always wish to push people away just cause I’m a scared little girl on the inside trying to protect her weak self.I wish I could say I love it but I don’t. I wish I could say I wasn’t socially anxious but I can’t because I am. I wish things could be different, but there ain’t. Learning myself is quite a process and I don’t know how long it’s gonna be before I learn that I need to stop trying at all to be alone. ✌😔