It’s my birthday in 5 days. Feels weird. I don’t want to get older. I don’t want to exist. But i’m too scared to end it all.
Fake spring is over, it’s getting colder. My hands are freezing.
I woke up to sirens a few days ago, apparently my neighbours barn was on fire.
I’m gonna try to find vegan easter candy, the same that my german grandma used to give me. I miss her.
I can read again, i don’t get stuck after two pages anymore so that’s good.
Last night i dreamt that i was on a cruise ship and i had to guide children who had died to the afterlife (yes, elsewhere is my favorite book).
It was strange, but kind of beautiful? It made me think of my grandma, she died last year and i miss her a lot. I didn’t visit her these last years because of my illness, i’m not sure how much she understood but i’m ashamed every single day because of what i did, or what i didn’t do really. I was even too scared to go to her funeral, i stayed home and stared into a wall, i had not left the house for 2 years and i couldn’t force myself to break the isolation, it breaks my heart to admit it, i’m still isolated, and tears are streaming down my face now because i don’t want to admit it.
I hate social anxiety.
It’s so tiring to always live on the edge.
To not know if i have a future or not.
To wonder, worry and have anxiety all the time.
I’m lonely, i’m very very lonely and i’m scared.
I could snap any second and hurt myself, or even worse, kill myself, it’s so scary. I don’t know how i’m supposed to survive this week. All i can do is wait and try to survive, take my medicines and not let my hope die again, cause that’s when things can get really dangerous.
I’m trying so hard to fix everything but it’s not working.
I have anxiety again, yay. I have taken promethazine and alimemazin tonight but it’s not helping that much. I feel like my brain is just.. slower, i guess. It’s so hard to write this.
I was going to write a long blog post but i realise now that i can’t. IT FEELS LIKE MY BRAIN IS GETTING SLOWER EVERY SECOND?? what is happening to me.
This wasn’t what i planned. Fuck.
Okay whatever, i’ll be back some other day because it’s been 30 minutes and i still haven’t written anything important so, yeah, bye, goodnight, pray for me or something.
I worry about my future.
I know I’m stronger than I give myself credit for.
I can do this. Right? I have to do this.
I woke up, i stayed in bed for 5 hours, i got up, i made vegan meatloaf and listened to some music with my mom.
And now i have zero energy left. Days like these i wonder if i’ll ever be able to live a normal life. I didn’t do anything today that should make me feel completely exhausted, but here i am in my bed, i’m sweaty and my heart is beating fast and it has taken me 10 minutes to write this because my hands are moving slowly. I’m so tired. All the damn time.
How am i supposed to finish school, get a job, find new friends and actually do something with my life when i can’t even complete a simple task without wanting to lie down on the ground and just die.
I hate this part of depression, or, i hate all parts of coure, but this part makes me doubt myself and my abilities all the time and it’s frustrating, i want to be so much more than this. I’m practically bed-bound at this point. I read a little bit, i listen to music all the time, i watch some movies and every other day i cook for me and mom, but that’s it. Life is supposed to be so much more than this but my life is stuck on repeat and i don’t know how i’m supposed to break free.
People always say ”it’s not a bad life, just a bad day”, i’ve lived like this for 10 years, and i’m only 18 years old! My life is bad. It’s very very bad. I want to recover, but i’m too tired to take a step forward.
I’m going to sleep now. It’s only 12:11 here in Sweden but i can barely keep my eyes open.
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I have problems that i don’t talk about.
There are things in my life that i haven’t told anyone about, i’ve been stuck in a daydream for many years and i don’t want to admit it because that makes it feel too real for me to handle. I hate my real life so much that i’ve created other worlds in my fantasy that i escape to whenever i can. I hate myself for doing this to myself.
I put my playlist with piano music on shuffle and the first song that started playing was ”As the years go by” by Johannes Bornlöf. I love that song but it makes me so sad, not only the melody but the name too. I’ve wasted so many years, i’ve been mentally ill all my teenage years and next year i’ll turn 20. I haven’t done anything with my life, everything i wanted to do has been put on hold because reality is too painful for me to handle, it’s difficult for me to even wake up in the morning, sometimes i just lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling for hours because i’m too exhausted to move, even if i’ve been sleeping for 12 hours. I just can’t force myself to move and do the things that i’m supposed to do at this age, i should be working or studying, meeting friends and maybe even fall in love, but i can’t do all those things because i’m in a long-term relationship with depression and social anxiety. The diagnoses that i’ve had my entire life and that never left me when everyone else did. Sounds like i’m romantizising my illness, i’m not. I’m just scared because i don’t know who i am without my illness, i mean, how am i supposed to search for happiness when i don’t know what actual happiness feels like? I’m wandering in complete darkness trying to navigate myself through life with no one there to help me, and if you have never felt that way it’s so hard for me to try and explain what it’s like.
Happiness and a life worth living is something i really want, more than anything else, but it seems like my brain isn’t willing to do anything about this whole situation. It’s easier to just sit here, in my warm bed, in my cold dark room, stay under the covers, and wait for a miracle. I have a big black piece of fabric hanging over my window, so i don’t have to see the seasons change, because it makes me sad. When the snow starts falling, the leaves change color or we start seeing the sun again here in sweden, it reminds me of the fact that i’ve wasted another 1-4 months on being depressed. I don’t look at the window, and most of the time i wear headphones and dream. I always dream, but i never reach my goal. Because i’m not trying, i’m not sure if i even want to try. It’s bizarre, i know.
I’m just so stuck and i forgot how to live a normal life. Maybe my life was never normal and that’s why it’s so hard for me to turn everything around. I’m searching, or i’m trying to force myself to search for something, but i don’t know what that ”something” is yet.
You know?
