Where to even begin? My heart feels very heavy. It does most days. I wake up and for a split second, I don’t feel as though anything is out of place. But that second passes by and just as suddenly, there is a sadness that drops inside my chest and radiates throughout my entire body.
And so I lay there in my bed, letting the waves of sadness wash over me. Letting my mind wander through all the painful memories until I’m in so deep that I’ve lost my way out.
I am still grieving for a lot of the things that I have lost in my life. Not just the past, but the future too. The people that I’ll probably never get to see again. The places that were once special to me, but now are just distant memories. That feeling of belonging and feeling accepted, despite the insecurities that plague my existence.
This whole year has been a colossal disaster. I can’t wait to put it behind me, but at the same time I know that life isn’t structured around months and years. I know that I’m heading into 2018 with more challenges to face, especially when it comes to my spiritual and mental health.
It’s hard. There are days when the anxiety hits so hard that I am crippled by it. I lose the energy to do anything productive – all that energy has been spent running circles inside my own mind. And then there’s the guilt and shame that comes with it. Guilt that I am unable to find the energy to make a video. Guilt that I’ve given up. Guilt that I am not able to make something worthwhile of my life.
I try to forgive myself. I try to tell myself that sometimes mental illness takes so much out of you that you’re no longer able to do the things you love. I try to tell myself that it’s okay to have bad days, and just like a storm, it’ll eventually pass. But the thing about storms is that they always come back, destroying everything in their path. And you’re left once again to pick up all the pieces of the destruction its left behind. The sad part is that you can’t salvage everything.
I understand that I should not look to place my happiness in other people’s hands. I understand that this battle is my own to fight – alone. But sometimes the loneliness is all encompassing. It’s like being suffocated by the void. Sometimes I don’t believe I will make it out alive. There is a part of me that has accepted that one day, when I can’t cope, that I will end my life.
Everyday is a constant battle with my own mind. I’m afraid that it’ll be a battle that I will inevitably lose.