Tag Archives: #mentalhealthawareness

2021 is the year I say FuCk iT !

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.

What now? 🚬

What now? You’re probably wondering what else about my depressing life I’ve unearthed…and to answer that question, there’s nothing new really. I truly sometimes hate that the best I’ve always got to give to anyone who reads my posts is entirely centered on my depressive life cycle. I truly hate that and I hope it’s a consolation to you knowing that I don’t like always being a Debbie Downer. I find it extremely hard to write anything general based on my life. Like currently, I’ve got a ton of things I could vent about concerning nothing depressive but I have no idea where I’d even start or how I’d express those piled up thoughts & feelings together. I never feel like those thoughts are what trigger my niche for writing. It’s always gotta be something dramatically sad. I guess that’s entirely just what sums up my life…

What now seems like the perfect question right now. For me and for anyone wondering what else this sad’ist has come up with. For me, I’m asking this question cause I very well don’t know what to do now… what’s next. You may be wondering what’s next from what; what next after a long eight months of being in a depressed state. I’ve said it before that it feels a lot like waking up from a hibernation period. So here I am, a month in from a long period of exhausting ‘slumber’ …I’m reeling from quite a few new experiences from the past couple of months, not sure what to do with myself, I’m not as accustomed to feeling normal. Normal for me in this case is everything non suicidal, non chaotic, nothing self harm, non overwhelming… Make no mistake, I’m not complaining about feeling better from all that. It’s a break and I’m glad that I’m not mentally sinking. Though, I’m not delusional enough to think that this feeling will last forever, nah, depression doesn’t work like that just in case you don’t know. It’s taking a break, and just like every break, it eventually comes to an end.

Why does it feel this hard rolling back to this mind space, away from the darkness & turmoil ? I’ve done it before, two years in a row I’ve gone through this. Gone through a space of depression for a couple months and towards the end of the year, I ween off it like waking up from a long exhausting sleep. I expect myself to fall back into routine and tackle life as it comes. I’m no longer depressed after all, right? Then what’s so damn different about this time round? Why I’m I so darn tired, why don’t I like it as much, the aspect of being back to ‘normal’ ? Why is it that assimilating back to my own life is so hard…

..Or maybe, it could be cause I’m having to pick up the pieces of the tarnished person I was in those last eight months. Maybe it’s cause I’m having to deal with the judgement from others around me who seemed to have spent their time better than I did. For sure spending time finding ways to make short change was way better than popping pills & slashing wrist…yeah. Maybe it’s cause of the overwhelming guilt & shame I’m having to feel for not trying hard enough to be a stronger person… Jeez, how hard could it be to get myself out of sadness. I ask myself that every single day too. Pardon me for not acknowledging that struggling mentally is a ‘comfort zone’ which isn’t a good enough reason for why I never tried harder or why I never came up with ways to get myself a little bit of money … I’m ‘sorry’ that I was working on staying alive rather than making pocket change.

Being caught in this rift of shame makes it even harder for me to convince myself into believing that it’s not my fault that those last months were hard for me. That if things had been different, I’d have done more for myself. I already feel conflicted as it about what exactly is wrong with me, I honestly don’t need anyone else pushing it down my throat that I don’t try hard enough.

So here I am, clueless, frustrated and still not good enough for the world. In no place or time do I seem to be doing the right thing so honestly why start now… All I’ve been having all year long is a pity party for dear old me, well guess what, I’m tired of that too. It’s been so tiresome for me to try act normal that I even picked up smoking. I’ve been holding off on saying this so I don’t continue doing everything wrong in my life but guess what, this girl needs to quit caring. I’ve pondered over the thought of smoking cigarettes for a while now actually, I’d thought I’d replace ripping open my wrist with a more calmer, less bloody and more slower towards death kind of way. Best part about it, I like it. Couldn’t wait to simply admit that but truthfully speaking, that shit is so relaxing, makes me feel like a pretty butterfly.. Maybe not pretty, more like a floating butterfly. Been told that it’s addictive and I see why. I’ve smoked pot before but it doesn’t really do much for me besides make me loopy. With a cigarette, I’m just mild. I’ve never had a poison before, but I think I might just have found myself one. I’ll actually keep you posted on how smoking is going for me. I’ve not had something excite me in a long while and this does.

The run down…

Hello.. To no one in particular.. It’s been a while. At least for me it feels like its been a long while. Thought I’d take a well deserved time out from writing cause for the longest I didn’t feel like I was truly letting out my thoughts and feelings as candidly as I had hoped too…not that I’m sure of myself as of now on whether this will be as articulate and precise as I want it to be. Like always, I have no sense of direction with what I’m writing right now but sometimes it’s just therapeutic for me to kinda go with the flow & let free of whatever that is swirling through my mind. For starters, it’s been quite the chaotic last couple months of my life. Calling it a rollercoaster sometimes doesn’t cut it, it doesn’t fully delve into just how exhausting & frustrating the cycle that is my mental state seems to get sometimes, if not all the time. I’ve felt everything and nothing all at the same time. Every inch of me knows chaos & turmoil so personally that I can’t seem to pick out the difference between the two anymore . I’ve felt the lose of bits of myself and the slow gradual process of becoming empty inside & hollow in different fractions through time. I truly wish I wasn’t here right now writing about my misery. I wish my life had some remote sense of comfort, colour, happiness & normalcy that I’d be able to truthfully share with the world without having to fall back into the subject of my battles with myself.In the midst of all that whirlwind, I have had moments whereby I have felt like I’ve had some kind of slow revelation. This being the days where I’ve felt okay, I’ve felt calm and collected in some form. But that’s just it, for a moment.. It kinda never last long enough for me to revel in that moment of peace because I’m quick to fall back into the state of panic of whether it’s just a matter of time before I loose myself again. I can’t seem to even cut myself a bit of slack. That’s the cue for my frustrations. The back and forth of my thoughts that are trying to convince themselves that they can get out of that depressive state still in the midst of the voice at the back of my mind that reminds me that I’m on the train to loony ville.This year round, every bit of feeling has felt more intense & deliberately prolonged than before. Each struggle felt aggravated & escalated more than ever before which in turn felt like I was unlocking an entirely whole new level of depression that I clearly had never experienced before. This level of pain reared its ugly head and didn’t mince it’s presence ; it was there and it wasn’t going anywhere . (Trigger Warning). In previous blog updates I have mentioned of my struggle with self harm and how much I latch onto it as a pain relief from my mental & emotional turmoil. That too escalated quick & fast and I was loosing grip of everything and relying on it nearly as often as countless times a day. It got so bad, I began to worry that I was running out of space to cut since I’d ripped up most of my wrist. I was in so much emotional pain I didn’t know what else to do… but a conscious part of me knew that if I didn’t seek some form of help, I was going to do irreversible damage that I’d have no way to get out of. I soon had to start on therapy which went on for a while. I got my first set of antidepressants and they were hard. It was a real adjustment for me in all aspects, physically, emotionally & mentally. I was going through it, that’s the only way I can express how grand the change was for me. It took time for me to feel like any positive change was happening and through it I got to feel something that had never been a sitting thought in my head but now seemed to swirl quite a few times through my mind. What most people don’t realize is that in not all cases does self harm mean that one’s end game is them taking their own lives. I for one never did it to die. In its own twisted way, it stuck as a reminder that I was still alive, that I wasn’t entirely consumed by my demons.Feeling suicidal for me was a shame I couldn’t bring myself to admit to anyone; that it was actually a thought in my mind. I for one didn’t want to raise any alarm over it cause I believed I was still strong enough to at least never actualize it. I kept repeating it to myself that I am too much of a coward to take my own life and that I’d never want to be the cause of such pain to my loved ones . What I didn’t realize is that, it was alarm enough to just think about what suicide would be like for me. Whether it would finally be peaceful & quiet. I began to feel unfazed by my self harm and it became more than just my norm, it became an addiction. This has to be the first time I’m admitting that to anyone apart from myself. It quit being a coping mechanism for me and it became a latch for whenever my mood would fluctuate, whenever I’d think about it, I’d want to simply actualize it just cause I could & just cause it made me feel better in its own way. I knew I should have been scared to be this unfazed and unbothered by it but a part of me still isn’t, till date. This went as far as consciously triggering myself sometimes so I’d convince my mind that I wasn’t in a calm state and that gave me reason enough to actualize the thought of cutting myself. This is hard to admit to myself and to anyone who’ll read this. Currently, that’s my greatest battle right now, self harming over every little shift that takes place in my mind. It makes me feel sadistic, crazy ,demented and mentally damaged. I’m not proud of it.So that’s the much of a rundown of my time, of what my life has been for the last couple months. I truly didn’t intend to write, at least until I was sure I wouldn’t be writing about how messed up my life is. I actually wanted to express something less depressive, something less exhausting, something less sad… but I guess, that’ll have to wait for a while till I can get the right treatment for my mental struggles. I often wish that I could get an actual diagnosis over what it is exactly that’s the root cause for the shifts and mental instability that seems to happen a lot to me. It’s my next hope that I can finally get a treatment for what specifically is ailing my mind. I’m hanging in there. I’m grateful for those who look out for me. I genuinely wouldn’t be here without some of the people in my life… and I hope that after all this is done and I’m able to finally get a sense of mental structure and stability, I’ll be able to be that sense of support to someone else who’ll need it at that time.

Unsettling Hope..

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’ll try keep this as short as I can cause honestly, I don’t know where I’m going with this…I just know that I’m in the middle of chaos that I need to find a way or a means out of. When I feel like I’ve probably felt enough in conjunction to how low my mental struggles can take me, I’m reminded that I’m falling into a bottomless pit. Honestly, I’m at a war and I can’t ascertain to whether I’m winning or losing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it always feels like I’m drowning but the difference this time round is that something keeps pushing me further down into the water ; I’m suffocating on the chaos that’s raging in me. I’m battling as it is to simply put to words how much turmoil I’m feeling but I feel like the harder I try to emerge out of it, the harder it is getting for me to breathe…like I’m having a panic attack but nobody else can see it cause it’s behind my eyes. Even as I write this, my breathing is laboured & I honestly just wish I could scream out the turmoil. The scariest thing out of all of this, I don’t know why I’m drowning…Tonight I’d have stopped the chaos, even if it’s just for a little while. I wanted to, I had every intention to. Sadly, in the only way I know how. Depression for me is taking an entirely new height..one I’m not sure I’ve been to before. One that’s paralyzing and crippling; I don’t know how to calm the hell that is coursing through me. I feel psychotic cause the world around seems entirely oblivious to the war that’s waging in my mind. I’m a breathing shell of the person I’m meant to be. I wanted to hurt myself, it was the plan a few minutes ago but somewhere along the line, I’m convinced it truly won’t make a difference. I no longer seek pity or remorse over the fact that I cope the way I do. Self harm keeps me more alive than I can attest to. It may be just another slash to my wrist or another scar to the collection but it’s sadly how chaos has me surviving. I don’t want to die but my spirit might not be strong enough to pull through this battle. It’s petrifying to think that there just might not be a way out of this. If I could choose death tonight, it would be outta of the utter helplessness that is coursing through me at this very moment. The feeling of having no hope whatsoever is like a blanket wrapped tightly around me to the point of slowly suffocating every bit of air inside me. I want to pick myself up from this shackles tied around my mind, I just truly don’t know if I’m strong enough to break free. Where would I even start? My spirit feels a lot like its been trampled over, fully decimated. I’ve got no hope & will left in me. The light in me is slowly dwindling. Your probably wondering why can’t I ask for help. It’s hard to see hope from others when it’s pretty non existent in yourself. Not to sound ungrateful but I don’t believe there’s much anyone could do for me anymore. At least not until I find strong enough will to help me back up & help myself fight for my better state of mind.

Conflicted simplicity… 🌪

So a minute or so ago, I was thinking that maybe it would be a cool idea if everytime I wrote a post, I should probably tell y’all a random thing about myself. Not sure if it’ll reduce the mystery around me 😅, that’s if it’s at all existent…I could be very well flattering myself here but anyways. The said random fact that brought this idea to mind is that my favourite ice cream is plain vanilla. I understand that most people go crazy with their ice cream flavours & toppings but I’ve never really seen the appeal to having one too many flavours all meshed in my mouth. My taste buds wouldn’t like the confusion of it. I’ve actually always taken a secret pride in loving plain vanilla. It’ll probably sounds silly but the reason for my ice cream preference is cause I’ve always perceived myself as a simplistic person hence my reason for liking a singular type & taste of ice cream. I probably sound extremely corny & cliché saying that so I’m gonna stop there with my not so impressive personal facts about ice cream.. 😅I feel obligated to tell you my readers that I have been relatively in a balance for the last couple days which is a good thing, I think. This meaning that I’ve felt what I’d call a resemblance of normalcy which I haven’t had for over four months now. I take regard of this feeling of obligation cause this is the same platform where I’ve released every bit of my depression and pain out to the world. My actual world may not see it as clearly as I express it here, in my blog, therefore anyone who has ever taken their time to read & have a sense of concern over my mental health is deserving to know when my mind is striving to regain a sense of peace.Not to rain on my own parade but I am so conflicted on what to feel about my new found sense of normalcy… where my days aren’t racked by depression, self harm & possible suicide ideation. The sense of normalcy being, I may not be at the very perfect place in my mind but I can live through a day without having to wanna rip myself apart. I’m conflicted over whether to feel happy or scared shitless over the fact that I’m no longer fully immersed in my own little dark bubble which has been home for me for so long. In less complicated words, I don’t know if feeling better is a good thing or a bad thing. I at first thought that the reason I wasn’t acknowledging how different I was beginning to feel was because I didn’t want to jinx it but now I’m no longer sure if that’s a convincing reason. I’ve heard it before… That it’s not easy to accept recovery from a mental illness. Over my years in therapy, it’s been identified that I’m very attached to my pain & my depression. From the very act of owning & acknowledging it as my own. I’ve been told by therapist that I cradle my depression like I’d cradle a baby. I don’t want to believe that this could possibly be what I’m doing in this exact stage of the beginning of me recovering but it’s hard to deny that I’m scared to feel anything different from what I’ve been accustomed to. I honestly don’t know where my emotions lie right now when it comes to the changes I can feel happening.A part of me believes that the change in my mind is as a result of the three weeks I was on antidepressants. I wanna convince myself that they helped despite how hard & mentally exhausting it was for me to take them. I’m supposed to start on a different dosage of antidepressants & maybe I am just a tad bit too eager to get on them than I should want to be. I shouldn’t want to take them but a part of me feels that I need them. The twisted part of me that needs the chaos and the turmoil to feel like my usual ‘normal ‘ self… in pain.In conclusion, I think that I’ve probably rained and crushed on the initial parade I had of me being better.. I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone. I wanna convince myself that this is just part of the recovery, the part which feels like a withdrawal of some sort. That the feeling & yearn to go back to the dark parts of my mind is just a minor setback.

Uncharted territory.. ⏳🔚

Suicide.. Does that draw your attention? I sure hope it has cause it sure has drawn mine.. Maybe not in the same exact sense for you as it has for me but our attention is drawn… Thinking about it brings along a very chilling feeling that’s eerie. Not the most talked about subject and its understandable why. It’s not gonna randomly pop up in a conversation. The world has chosen to turn a blind eye over this subject cause a lot of it is denial over the fact that it happens everyday & everywhere. In all honesty, nobody ever sees it coming, maybe apart from those who lives have felt that it was their only way out… that it was their end of the tunnel. We are all quick to believe that the light at the end of the said tunnel always has to be hope ;for some, it’s the light that shines in death.

I’m not here to justify suicide or why it happens. I don’t believe there’s a universal reason of sort that explains why people do it. Truthfully, I’m not sure what I wanna say concerning it…. I’d be lying if I said it’s not been a notion that’s crossed my mind of late. It’s hard to admit that… It’s sure as hell tough as nails to put it out there that such a heartbreaking thought has skimmed through my mind. This being said, I don’t believe I’m suicidal. I’ve fought so hard to never get there & I wanna keep finding reasons to never getting there… But despite the internal war waging inside my mind, it’s hard to not wonder whether maybe that’s the only way out. I can’t say I know what goes through the minds of any of the people who have lost their lives through suicide..the most I could guess is that they probably felt hopeless. The kind that doesn’t give you a way out… the kind that most likely ran them out of options to get rid of the heaviness that burdened them. I say this cause I’ve felt that. That hopeless ache that sometimes never seems to leave & drains you of the little energy you have to fight for life & to fight to keep your will to survive. I’ve felt it and it’s scary.

Just to make things clear, this isn’t my suicide note. At least I don’t think it is. I still wanna live, even despite the exhaustion I’m feeling from merely having to breathe. I’ve always thought of myself as too cowardly to do something as drastic & final as suicide. Ever since I was a child, I just knew I couldn’t bring myself to take my own life. The thought wasn’t farfetched for me, I just knew I didn’t have the balls in me to do it. I believe I still don’t have enough balls for it but now, now I don’t think it’s such a bleak thought. Earlier today, while taking breakfast, my family and I were listening to the radio & a story came up of a seven year old boy who committed suicide. It said that he had just come out from playing with his friends & seemed completely fine to his parents, and in a matter of minutes, they walked back in the house to find his lifeless body hanging of a rope on the ceiling. It was disheartening to listen to that, having to hear that that early in the morning when one is about to start their day. It was extremely sad & painful to think about it but out of all of that, what mainly stayed with me is how young he was. In the world that we live in, a seven year old is extremely young therefore it raises the question of what kind of chaos was that little boy going through to have concluded that his life wasn’t worth living for anymore…

I no longer find surprise when it comes to the subject of suicide. I believe we have been tuned as humans to never reveal our weaknesses to the world for they may see us as weak which in actual fact we are. I wish the world could share kindness to everyone & not just when one is in the blink of taking their own life but even when one is in the peak of their life. I hope that my demons remain cowardly enough to not bring me to the blink of me taking my own life. Even despite the painful, hollowing sorrow I’m going through, I hope to live through my dreams & aspirations till when it is my time to leave this earth. Suicide is not a matter of courage or balls, it’s a matter of hopelessness & despair… It’s everyone’s wish to never get to that point in their lives but never think ill of those who have. The toughest kind of pain is the kind that is masked behind a happy face or a prosperous life. People think that those who contemplate suicide are selfish for not taking into consideration the feelings of those they live behind. Take a minute to think of how much sorrow it brings for one to choose their own pain over the one that their loved ones are left to feel. It isn’t easy. I sure don’t think it is. I don’t advocate for suicide, not at all. I wish we could all see the beauty in life but we all know that’s not possible. If you ever feel like life isn’t worth living anymore, reach out to just one person who would rather listen to your pain than have to sit by your grave.

Exhausted is my middle name.. 😟

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…

‘ Happy pills ‘💊

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.

A letter to my limitless friend..📜

Dear Depression ,I can’t begin to imagine how many times you’ve received letters from others who’ve been acquainted with you. I wish I’d say it didn’t bug me that others have felt you in some form or way but it surely does. I am never ready or excited to share or hear of other people’s encounters with you, it unnerves me for some reason. I’m yet to figure out exactly why. I wish I was somewhat prepared with bullet points on what i’d wanna say to you but i honestly don’t have a plan on how to do this. You do that to me… render me speechless & drain me of any strength that I’d have put into making some sort of effort, at anything technically. But I’m not mad at you, on the contrary, you’ve been the longest underrated relationship I’ve been in for the better part of my life. You maintained consistence even without always being at the fore front of my mind. I felt you way long before I understood what you were or what you represented. Then, you preyed on my naivety on the lack of articulation & appropriate description of what you did to me ; on what you made me feel. I always just thought I was an akward, sad and lonely kid while all along, you planted your seeds in me and watered them over the years until you were strong enough to sprout out of the ground that was /is my mind.I don’t honestly need an answer for why you chose me, or why you altered my personality to match the aesthetics of your nature. It wouldn’t make sense to seek such an answer since I wouldn’t know who I’d be weren’t it for your meddling…and anyway, you have never been one to explain yourself ,you thrive on the uncertainties you give. What a lot of people don’t understand is that you are limitless, it should be explainable since you are a guest to many. I can’t elaborate on your whereabouts while dealing with other people, no, you have made certain that you are the center of my attention & are rooted as a part of me whereby seeing & living beyond you is downright impossible.When I said you’ve stuck around for a while it’s because you have been there for as long as I can recall. You were there when I couldn’t explain why I felt this immense sadness inside me to my mother. You watched in the shadows as I struggled to bring to sense to her that I was feeling everything different from every other child around me. That I was scared, anxious & the least carefree. You’d just started to wrap your arms around me for it was just a matter of time before you’d fully have to engulf me. Before long ,you made yourself known to me, you came to me in the face of grief, anguish & an Inerasable sadness that became the beginning of your true manifestation in my mind. You carried me in your arms & sunk me under. You sunk deeper in me and built a wall behind my thoughts & feelings where it was only ever gonna be you and I. Eight years down, you and I have created a history so deeply inbedded, it’s turned to a maze.…you are no longer just an overhwelming sadness that pops up when I can’t handle the gravity and the intensity of my emotions. You are the face of the grief I feel when I miss my mum. You are the face of the sorrow I feel when I get paralysed in my mind as a fourteen year old girl who’s every dream with her mum got shattered after I learned that I’d have to live without her for the rest of my life. Depression,you are the face of the constant fear & anxiety that engulfs me over not being good enough for anyone, even for myself. The face of the abandonment issues that plague me everytime I make a friend or have a lover. You are the face of the shame I carry every time I have to bandage up my cuts so I don’t have to feel them, let alone see them. You depression are the face of the self destructing habits I’ve picked up on everytime I can’t deal with the betrayal from my mind…As of now, I can’t tell if you are my fiend or my friend. Sometimes you are all it takes to remind me that I am human & that as much as I try to escape pain, I’m rendered in it. So for now, you are my face, you are my demons & for all I know, you might be me for the rest of my life.