Exhausted ramble.
So this is just something I wrote in my notebook, started out great but gradually deteriorated with my mood and is as follows. Happy reading.
Emotionally unstable, correct. However this doesn't mean I'm totally incapable of achieving great things. Perhaps I may not achieve as much as everyone else, but still; achievements are achievements.
Mine may well be smaller than others, such as having a shower is a great achievement to myself but probably just part of basic function for an 'ordinary' person. So I guess that's a win, learning to appreciate the little things. Though little things still affect me, especially when it begins to stack up.
Being off mood stabilisers isn't totally helpful either.
This is no understatement when I say, I feel fucked. I am in a way. I am able to acknowledge the positives in life such as living in an amazing environment and having support from my partner, bestie and my dad. I'm also getting an outpouring of support from friends as I blog more frequently, which is lovely. I appreciate it all of you.
So why isn't that good enough to get out of the spiral I'm stuck in? Why do I still ruminate on the past and old fuck ups? On the surface, I seem like I'm improving and perhaps I am; I just haven't seen or felt it yet. Because my oh my I still feel incredibly shitty. Still wishing I was dead as currently I cannot function as a 'normal' person, now I know normal is an ideal that doesn't exist but or fuck sake I cannot leave the house without intense, internal anger and anxiety. At present it's constantly fucking knowing at me and I'm exhausted. I could quite happily cry writing to this but I think I'm becoming used to feeling so broken and fragmented as a person. Trying to inspire hope in others whilst I feel hopeless.
I'm meant to be starting a new job soon (no start date yet) but how am I going to do that if I can't deal with going for a coffee even?
**Rant was supposed to be over here but turns out I'm not quite finished**
I feel myself slowly slipping and gaining an inability to discuss how I feel. I'm tired of rehashing the same old bullshit that bothers me, the things that bother me are never ending. Another issue currently, I'm waaaay too sensitive. A delicate little flower, perhaps a butterfly. They're pretty fragile creatures.
My greatest difficulty is I'm so big on helping myself. I am huge on it and it's something I believe I should be able to do. The difficult part? I'm too low to do most things. I get by my days doing bare minimum, feeling shit for not being able to make phone calls, for my inability to do things I used to, my inability to use my skills from therapy, my undying urge to go out and do things, to fucking enjoy things. Currently, I can't do anything but bitch, pop a diazepam and cry at times. In case you were wondering, it's really difficult.
I also feel I lack a capacity to enjoy things. I could stare at a wall all bloody day and not care. What am I doing instead? Shoving my shit onto other people.
I fucking hate myself most days right now, hate my emotions and how I feel and despise the fact I need more help.
Christ.
Emotionally unstable, correct. However this doesn't mean I'm totally incapable of achieving great things. Perhaps I may not achieve as much as everyone else, but still; achievements are achievements.
Mine may well be smaller than others, such as having a shower is a great achievement to myself but probably just part of basic function for an 'ordinary' person. So I guess that's a win, learning to appreciate the little things. Though little things still affect me, especially when it begins to stack up.
Being off mood stabilisers isn't totally helpful either.
This is no understatement when I say, I feel fucked. I am in a way. I am able to acknowledge the positives in life such as living in an amazing environment and having support from my partner, bestie and my dad. I'm also getting an outpouring of support from friends as I blog more frequently, which is lovely. I appreciate it all of you.
So why isn't that good enough to get out of the spiral I'm stuck in? Why do I still ruminate on the past and old fuck ups? On the surface, I seem like I'm improving and perhaps I am; I just haven't seen or felt it yet. Because my oh my I still feel incredibly shitty. Still wishing I was dead as currently I cannot function as a 'normal' person, now I know normal is an ideal that doesn't exist but or fuck sake I cannot leave the house without intense, internal anger and anxiety. At present it's constantly fucking knowing at me and I'm exhausted. I could quite happily cry writing to this but I think I'm becoming used to feeling so broken and fragmented as a person. Trying to inspire hope in others whilst I feel hopeless.
I'm meant to be starting a new job soon (no start date yet) but how am I going to do that if I can't deal with going for a coffee even?
**Rant was supposed to be over here but turns out I'm not quite finished**
I feel myself slowly slipping and gaining an inability to discuss how I feel. I'm tired of rehashing the same old bullshit that bothers me, the things that bother me are never ending. Another issue currently, I'm waaaay too sensitive. A delicate little flower, perhaps a butterfly. They're pretty fragile creatures.
My greatest difficulty is I'm so big on helping myself. I am huge on it and it's something I believe I should be able to do. The difficult part? I'm too low to do most things. I get by my days doing bare minimum, feeling shit for not being able to make phone calls, for my inability to do things I used to, my inability to use my skills from therapy, my undying urge to go out and do things, to fucking enjoy things. Currently, I can't do anything but bitch, pop a diazepam and cry at times. In case you were wondering, it's really difficult.
I also feel I lack a capacity to enjoy things. I could stare at a wall all bloody day and not care. What am I doing instead? Shoving my shit onto other people.
I fucking hate myself most days right now, hate my emotions and how I feel and despise the fact I need more help.
Christ.
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