Happy Six Months!

Happy birthday baby BLOG!!!

That's right, it's my blog's birthday today. Six whole months. It's starting to babble.  That's right, that's not just me being an incoherent mess, that's an actual milestone, baby! And it's starting to crawl (surely you've noticed it's been all over the place lately). Yes, my baby blog is growing up. I'm so proud!

I first started this blog as a way to try to process things - a coping mechanism, if you will.  I've started with a number of different hobbies and grand ideas, sure that THIS one would be THE one...and then sticking with it for all of about two weeks.  I guess you could say I have commitment issues.  It's okay - I say it too.  It's true really.  I get bored easily, frustrated easily.  All thing things that make people give up.  So I came up with a foolproof plan to avoid that with this blog. I know, I know...you're begging me - PLEASE give up on this one.  No.  Absolutely not.  I'm going to make you suffer every bit of it!  But back to the plan.  My foolproof plan. Spend $15 on a custom domain so I'll feel guilty if I give up on it. So far, so good.

I don't know how much the blog has helped me process.  I'm sure most of my readership is just along for the train wreck. Fair enough, I say. My hope is that at some point, somewhere along the way, the blog will help someone understand depression or anxiety or self-harm (or any of my other unspecified neuroses) a little bit better.  I've always been a very private person, so the last six months have been a real challenge. But in all fairness, there have been a lot of good things that have come from it. I've reconnected with a number of people that are really awesome people, and I've been able to become more transparent which has helped me gain support when I've needed it the most. I'd say that's not too shabby for 6 months of work.

Games Depressed People Play

Most days life is like playing a game of hide and seek all alone. I hide. And I wait. And wait. And wait some more. I wait for someone to find me. First proud of my cleverness, keeping so well hidden that nobody could ever find me. Then devastated that everyone has just given up looking entirely. Quiet. Lost.

Or Twister. Left foot blue. Wake up feeling like the day will never end. Left hand green. Drag myself out of bed and pretend to be a fully functioning human being. Right foot green. Coast on auto pilot, counting down the hours until I can safely stop caring again. Right hand yellow. Go to sleep confused and tangled just to wake up and do it all over. Thud. Fallen.

Sometimes Chutes and Ladders is more my thing. Slow and steady progress. Excited to be inching closer and closer to my goal. Every so often, a little morsel is thrown my way and I make my way carefully up a ladder. But then the inevitable happens. I'm pushed down the chute, sent screaming and flailing back to the beginning. Square one. Relapse.

Or perhaps on a sunny day, I'll take to the water and play some Battleship. E10. Just one little blow, but I soldier on. F10. Anxiety settles in, but I'm focused and determined to keep moving forward. G10. Starting to take on water, staring down imminent disaster. H10. Sinking deeper and deeper until no trace of me can be seen, silenced for good. Boom! Sunk.

Game over.

This Is Why... - Repost

I'm re-posting this blog entry tonight. I took it down a while ago because it was a little too raw. I'm putting it back out there to remind people that words have power and that it's a dick move to kick someone when they're down.

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This is why I don't tell people things.  Seriously.

It's been a really difficult few weeks.  Things have been escalating a lot and this weekend, I've gotten to the point where the urge to cut has been really bad.  One thing I've learned over the past year is that support is crucial.  Reaching out to people is absolutely necessary for keeping my sanity.  I was reminded last night why I have such a difficult time with it even though I know it's so important.

I was struggling horribly this weekend, and I apparently made the mistake of trusting the wrong person for support.  I confided in him that I was having a very difficult time not cutting.  In addition to just generally not being very supportive at all, when this person texted me later that evening and I didn't respond (because I was asleep), he followed up with this text, apparently frustrated with my lack of response:

"Did you pass out from blood loss?"

Ouch. Umm...thanks for the support?  Now, in all fairness, I don't expect everyone to understand the whole "self-harm" thing.  I really don't.  I don't expect everyone to be supportive when I'm struggling.  But what I do expect from a person I thought was someone who actually cared about me was to not deliver such a low blow.  It doesn't change the fact that I need support to get through the bad times, but comments like that make it so much harder to reach out for support.  Because holy shit, that was a hurtful and completely uncalled for comment.

And this is why I have trouble trusting people enough to tell them things. Because I always seem to find that one person who will throw it back in my face when I'm at my weakest. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people in my life who wouldn't dream of doing that. But the unfortunate thing is that it only takes one push to send someone over a cliff. Somehow I always seem to find that one asshole. Everyone had a talent for something - apparently finding assholes is mine, followed closely by an apparent inability to give up on assholes even when I know I should. Too bad those talents aren't really marketable...

So now I retreat into my own head and pull away from everyone even though that's the worst thing I could do. But I guess it's all part of navigating the path to finding people that are worth my time. Some day maybe it'll get easier.

I'm realizing now that I probably shouldn't even post this. That there's probably such a thing as too much transparency. But I'm also realizing that I just don't give a shit, so I'm going to do it anyway.

Help Me.

I have finally made it to the top after a long and grueling climb. The fresh, crisp air breathes new life into me. I can see the world through new eyes, and for the first time in a long time, things are starting to make sense.

Help me.

I feel the rocks shift beneath my feet. Panic strikes. I know what comes next, and I am powerless to stop it. I reach out in desperation for an outstretched hand, but I am alone. I have always been alone.

Help me.

Falling. Reaching out frantically for something to hold onto. I fall like a ragdoll, thrown against the rocky slope. Each strike a new wound, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within.  I am gashed and broken.

Help me.

I slam to the ground, hoping the worst is over. But the tumble has set in motion an avalanche. Each piece itself small and insignificant, working together to extinguish the light. Each piece joining forces determined to suffocate.

Help me.

Buried deep beneath the rubble, I'm powerless to dig out on my own. Once taking great pride in independence, I must now rely on others. Rely on others to notice me buried, gasping and scared. Rely on others to take the time and effort to pull me up from beneath the broken pieces of my life.

Help me.

I never believed anyone would notice the struggle, never believed I was worth saving. So long spent buried, crushed by the weight of the hurt and fear and shame, I thought it was just the way things would always be. But you changed my life.

You helped me.

Haters Gonna Hate

I kind of love this picture. It's got rainbows. It's got unicorns. It's got awesome! It's also a perfect follow-up to my last post. But mostly I wrote this post so I could use this picture. Because it's my blog and I make the rules around here, so there...

Anyway, after I finally climbed out of my blanket fort over the weekend, I realized how angry I was. Angry that assholes exist and seem intent on causing as much damage as possible without actually giving a crap. But more angry at myself - for letting an asshole win. I hadn't even realized it until I was urging a friend to ignore someone who was being disrespectful and ugly to her and encouraged her not to give people like that any headspace.

Yeah, I know. Hypocrite much? Trust me, I'd have kicked my own ass if I were flexible enough to make it happen. But I'm fat and out of shape, so I frowned disapprovingly at myself instead. It takes eleven muscles to frown, so I'm going to go ahead and call that my exercise for the day too.

Haters gonna hate. They will. But that's their problem. Other people's inability to be respectful and compassionate human beings isn't my fault and it's not my problem unless I make it my problem. I should probably stop doing that. You know, to salvage what's left of my sanity. And because it doesn't matter what you do - there always going to be someone judging. So who gives a shit? Be yourself. Be the person YOU were meant to be. To hell with everyone else. The people who love you will support you. The other people don't matter.

I mean, I'd imagine it's easy to be jealous of my fucked-upness and my mad writing skills... (I can't even type any of that with a straight face). Really, I don't have anything especially impressive to offer on any level, which is why I can't figure out why anyone would even bother mustering up the energy to be spiteful and ugly. But the truth is some people don't need a reason to be spiteful and ugly. It's just that spiteful and ugly happen to be what they are really great at. Not my fault and not going to be my problem anymore either.

I was listening to some music this morning on my drive into work and this song came on. Love it.