I treated myself to a book, there is this vintage store which I have been going to since I was a teenager, when my life is in this lost state I always gravitate towards that corner store and I always always find an uplifting read buried in there. Always. I am not big on self help books, I like a story, autobiographies that take me on a journey. I need to be utterly absorbed but this book though not a self help book, is filled with wisdom. It covers mental illness and the author doesn’t dwell which is just perfect for me.
This week I have been on the move, I have energy and drive, it tapers off at some point but it has been a while since I have felt this way. I can get out of bed. I have left the house 3 out of 5 days which is a massive improvement from once last week and the week before. The dark cloud has been slightly lifted. My moods are a moment to moment thing but the spaces between being numb and breaking down are growing wider.
I still cry everyday but not heavy intolerable sobs. The depression isn’t as vengeful and violent this week, just this quiet deep sadness. I can contain myself.
It has been so peaceful to place a self imposed ban on social media and text messages. I took the time out to be on my own and heal the only way I thought would be best at that point in time. I have a long way to go, of this I’m sure of but I think I am ready for social interaction again. Better now before I begin to experience the dark side of solitude.
When you actually start to believe that you are coming to terms with fact that you can live without communicating with someone, ever. Just when you think the song has come to a crashing end, and that it is OK. He texts you, Hey. And in that moment you feel overjoyed, shocked, content as though that Hey was some kind of salvation, But you know nothing has changed and nothing more than what this is will ever come out of this. Ever. The high will simmer down into a low and I will have to sew myself back together again. Why am I like this.
If you suffer from depression and someone comes into your life and makes you feel whole by filling in the void and takes that hopelessness away, becomes the reason you smile and keep fighting the fight, are your feelings for this person inflated to be more than they really are? Perhaps, I don’t know. I just know that loving and being with him was the most profound experience of my life so far. It has been too much to bear. Some things eat away at you, this, devoured me whole.
I still feel that sensation of heat beneath my skin when we talk and the fact that he is never coming back seeps into conversation. Parts of me die.
I’ll keep writing about this until there is nothing left to say. The ego says what is wrong with you? let it go already, he didn’t deserve you, you’re better off. That may be true but why can’t I stop thinking about it and crying in the bus. I was someone before I met him. Why do I feel as though I have lost something so fundamentally supportive to my existence?
He is leaving today.
I have not seen him in a month, we have been over for a month. I ceased the texts 4 days ago after he had been telling me that he loves me and that he cannot bear the thought of leaving without seeing me. I declined. Will I regret it? How can I trust the sincerity of his pleas. I wish the circumstances were different, however, as it stands, I have no desire or wish to see him again nor do I have regrets regarding my decision to break up.
I am beyond broken, hurt, bitter, I still love him and I miss him. I wonder what he is doing now, what he is wearing and I get so heavy hearted but I feel embarrassed by my own unrelenting foolishness. When does the heart cease to love? To ruminate? Is there a switch to turn it all off? God! I am getting better and worse as the days progress. Waves. No progress. Cement.
I don’t know what time his flight is, is he lugging his luggage in a busy airport wearing his black coat with the oversized collar, are we still on the same soil, is he thinking of me. I ended things a month ago. Why should all this matter? It shouldn’t, but it does. I miss him. His warm breath. Our conversations. The snippets of our relationship that I cherished.
A quietly raging cold wind is settling in the place where he is leaving. I can’t conceal this unhinging of me. My parents are concerned about the state of me. Now they wake up?? I’m so far gone
I spend the mornings and afternoons angry at him, telling myself he is a low life and that I’m glad I left when I finally woke up. I deceive myself that I am healing and free. I binge and purge to numb the pain. At some point during the day, that wheel of destruction comes to a screeching halt and I am left with the torture of facing myself and my unrewarding reality.
6-11 pm. These are the most difficult and darkest hours of my days. The tears, the flood of emotions, the helplessness.
It’s 6:07pm and I don’t think I can carry on. But I must. I know I wil but for how long. Something has to give.
I have posted about winds of change before . A certain day when I am free of all that plagues me, something devours the lethargy. Today I woke up at 5:30am, I sighed the moment I woke. It was so dark and I was still.. miserable. This familiar a.m. scene, it’s starting to feel played out.
Today for once, I resisted the oppressive feeling in me to want to stay at home, to not get out of bed, to not shower until nightfall. To just let another mundane day bleed into another. The last time I was out of the house, I burst into tears in the middle of the street. In broad daylight.
I capitalised on this sudden burst of drive and want. I got up and went to an audition, it went well. I felt important and admired. Narc supply. I came home and ate, sat and texted. My migraine is too throbbing for me to think otherwise. It still hurts but I think I can still accomplish my dreams, find another door to push into.
I passed by our spot this afternoon, I shifted my gaze firmly away. Its too much. He is everywhere I look, his name lives in the spaces between each breath I take. Despite all this, I think I can live without him.
The more I sink deeper into this more profound and incredibly dramatic descent and farther into my own personal hell, I have lost the ability to leave the house. Home is the best place for my pity, I cant find employment and everything outside is irrelevant to the state of current affairs in my head and life. Dim the sun. I know it’s not healthy, my depression has a sense of ownership of this house and the only way I can divest that ownership is through taking brief walks.
I took a walk today, one of my twice or thrice a week mini reprieves. Since I broke up with him I have gone on these walks and walking the same path, each day as I have walked past a familiar tree, a shrub, a wall. I have found myself stronger than the day before. Still mournful but I have felt my emotions become more aligned.. perfectly arranged upheaveal. Today was different, I felt everything and nothing in its purest form. It sank in finally, the bright sun blinding me I stopped and felt nothing. It finally sank in, this is the reality and I cannot change it and in that moment I thought to myself. This is how it goes and I accepted it.
I cry all day. I cry and binge and purge. I have gained weight, my face is fuller but I don’t mind. I don’t care. I am no longer as strict with my restriction and purging. Sometimes I feed my brain and don’t purge, most of the times I engage in mindful bingeing and purging for the whole day. My eyes are permanently baggy. Bulimia and its effects don’t at all concern me, I don’t lay awake at night thinking about my ED anymore. The ED thoughts have been replaced by equally dark or more darker thoughts, I can’t decide which is which.
Sometimes I take a deep breath and say I give up and that momentary feeling is relieving beyond how I could ever describe it but I still have desire in me.
I am alone tonight and it feels peaceful. I need this solitude, its perfect. I keep cancellIing plans with friends, I cant shake it offf. I have uninstalled whatsapp from my phone, merely opening the app and being inudiated with a barrage of messages has been giving me this sense of terror, I feel as though I am encircled my wolves.I have become the epitome of antisocial, I wish I could converse about mundane every day life scenarios. I cannot or rather do not want to answer what I’m up to tonight and then ask them what they are up to as well, the ol dance of useless chatter. Please stop inviting me to things. Just stop. I want to be left completely and utterly alone.
I’m sorry, please understand.
A while has passed since I last wrote, for the most past I have been too weary to write. Recently my life has been full of friendships, meet ups, new activities and stimulating challenges. I haven’t had enough time to sit down and be still. I haven’t had enough time to feel and to think. I am unsure if I have been numb or I’ve stopped hurting… I know I haven’t but perhaps I’ve become accustomed to the dark so much so hurt has become some sort of second skin that I have to live with.
I turned 24 two weeks ago and unlike the previous years, I did not panic or cry I simply took it as is. Perhaps weakness has left my body, I do not know. I cannot explain these emotions or lack thereof.
I have been seeing a guy, it has been an emotional roller coaster to say the least. I have broken up with him more that four times, the whole relationship is marred with obstacles and a grinding halt that is certain and foreseeable. He is of a different race and religion than I am and his family would disapprove and to top that all off our whole union has been a secret and that has been wrecking havoc on my already pitiable self esteem and deadly insecurities. I do not know what to do, I break up with him and he pulls me back in with his elastic binds. He has the sweetest face I have ever seen and I am in the quicksand.
Bulimia keeps raging on and on and it is wrecking more havoc on my face, I look old and used. My skin looks and feels like elastic, I have this permanent dead eyed look in my face. My clothes are all too big so I keep rotating these few items of clothing. I am high on lethargy. This body of mine is spent, my feet seem to be saying this is it we’re done but my voracious appetite for self destruction remains unquenched.
I will make time to blog regularly like I used to, I miss how this feels. The release. I miss laying it all bare.
I have been too weary to write, too preoccupied to string words together and actually make sense. I have so much to say, so much has been happening. SO MUCH. I just can’t concentrate long enough to write it all down, I will soon once the fog in my head dissipates and everything stops spinning. Everything is alive and teeming, the horizon is full of promise but I don’t know how or why I’m drowning.