Release

I think I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown but don't know how to let it out.

It's been simmering beneath the surface for quite some time now, but hasn't presented itself in the ways it usually does. Usually I know when I'm about to have one. I get random bouts of anxiety and can feel myself entering a depression. I'll have a gloomy disposition full of mood swings and panic attacks. It quite often is the panic attacks that bring forth the release of all my pent up emotion; being brought to the surface so forcefully due to my unknowing suppression.

This time, I feel nothing. Have felt nothing for a while now.

I'm lacking motivation, feel helpless about my position in life, and only have fleeting moments of clarity. It feels as though there's a fog that's covering everything I do, taking away its lustre and joyousness. I can't seem to break free.

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I haven't had a proper cry in a while. I used to have them quite often before I went on medication for anxiety and depression. I guess that's a sign that they're working, but I sometimes feel like it's not allowing me to process emotions and thoughts in my head that would help bring insight to my situation. I don't think it would be a good idea to go off them, I'm not nearly there yet. Skipping doses has already proven this quite effectively. I don't want to relapse in coping mechanisms of self-harm and reversion to who I used to be. I was full of anger and misinterpreted feelings of hate and jealousy. I would react before I thought about what I was saying, how it could affect others. I don't want to put myself back in that place of rot and remorse.

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There's something strong blocking me, preventing me from being able to move on and deal with my emotions. I'm unwittingly stamping down my hopes of the future by staying in this gloom. As of right now, I can't see an end in sight. A large part of it is due to my living situation. I've been stressed for months now about my income and lack of passion for the job I'm currently working at.

On top of not making enough, I don't particularly enjoy what I'm doing, and I'm not in the mindset that it's a luxury to like what you do. I think it's a right. Everyone deserves to be happy at the job that consumes most of their time. It becomes a large part of who you are and reflects onto every aspect of your life. If it makes you feel hopeless and unmotivated, that will surely seep into your moments of alone time.

For me, it's extremely hard to set a divide between my personal and work life. I let this mindset bleed into the time that I'm with friends, family, or just by myself. I feel stifled and undermined. Unable to find a spark that will allow me to move past this phase and strive for better prospects.

Besides this, I'm also lacking a connection socially. I don't have close friends and often don't know how to fill my downtime. I used to just drive around town with an old friend, stopping at a fast-food restaurant and having a good chat in an empty parking lot. We made the most of the shittiest situations, when we were both feeling uninspired and tired of trudging through life.

Now, I have to be there for myself. Have to fall back on my own foundation when life knocks me down or I just don't feel like trying anymore. Sure I can visit my mom or talk to my sister, but it's different. When I'm talking to family I tend to feel like a burden who can't get her shit together. If it's not one thing, then it's another; I don't want to monopolize their time with the same complaints time after time. I like to be a light-hearted presence who can make you laugh and occasionally have serious conversations. To be able to hear out their frustrations and be able to respond with a mind unclouded by my own worries. I can't truly take in what they're saying when I'm feeling so miserable about myself. I try my best, but I often feel like it's not good enough. I wish that I could provide more for them and not be so focused about myself.

I suppose this means that I should be taking time to figure things out. There are a few past traumas that I have been shoving down for a while, scared of what they're going to bring out of me. I can't even say that I don't know what they are because I can pinpoint them exactly. I'm just hesitant to fully delve into them. I don't want to relive those painful memories and feel the way that I did in those moments. It was terrible and I don't wish for anyone to experience them.

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I'm not at the point where I feel comfortable sharing this with other people in my life. I'm not even ready to admit to myself that they happened, still trying to negate that they ever took place and that it wasn't intentional. I need to get to a place where I can allow myself to take in their reality. That they did happen and no, it wasn't okay and no, I'm still not okay because of them.

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It honestly terrifies me to think that there was actual intent behind one of my greatest traumas. Admitting that there was makes it a real thing that happened. It won't allow me to cower behind excuses anymore and I'll have to face all the pain that comes with it. It's just so much easier to continue on without this discovery.

And I would if I didn't feel the effects of it day in and day out.

Nearly everyday something happens to trigger me and take me back to that day. I feel disgusted, ashamed, and torturously confused. Why did this happen, why would he ever do that, why did nobody else realize? Was it all in my imagination if he never acknowledged it? Acted like everything was normal and not that my entire world had been shattered? I was left to pick up the pieces on my own, mortified if anyone were to find out. I also didn't feel that anyone would take me seriously. It wasn't that bad, was it? But it was. I can see that clear as day from the strong hold it has on me even writing these words. I'm brought to my knees and want to curl into a ball of nothing. Disappear and never have to relive these moments.

I think that the reason why I also have a jaded relationship with my grandparents is because of this instance. I felt slighted and upset; how could they not notice this drastic change within me? My grandpa was there when it happened, when he submerged beneath the water of their pool and committed the act.

They took us all out to dinner at a local pizzeria afterwords. I barely said two words the whole night. Terrified to move, face pale, stuck in memory. Nails clenched so tightly on my thighs they left marks. Already I had begun my punishment.

It's also why I feel so unease at the beach or any pool. I'm startled back into memory and it feels inescapable. I used to love the water. I felt so carefree and happy. Now it too has become a dark place. I try to force myself to spend time near water. Pretend that I enjoy it to not elude to the demons lurking within. I'm so uncomfortable in my own skin, thinking that what I'm wearing is allowing for unwanted attention. Despite being criticized about my weight and appearance my whole life by him, it still happened. I cannot fathom it. I don't want to try.

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I remember the night after it happened, tucked into a tight ball in bed with the covers secured around my body. I was so terrified that he would come in and finish the job. Silently crying to myself and hoping that tonight he wouldn't come in to try to force me to hug him and kiss him goodnight. I feared that it might turn into something far more fragmenting.

He did come to the room and he sat on the bed. I barely escaped spiralling into hysterics. I tried to subtly move away so as not to encourage him. I was looking at a monster in front of me. Not one with sharp teeth and big eyes, but someone I should find comfort and guidance in. I was divided completely. He left after trying to get me to talk with no success. Closed the door to the room and left me in the dark to recall that event over and over in my head. I knew that I would never be the same. Something visceral had changed within me. My guard would always be up and nothing could be done to rectify that.

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I think a therapist would help provide a safe space for me to dive into this. I'm not sure that I can do it on my own and still be able to function in my normal activities. I've been wanting to see a therapist but always find an excuse to forgo it. It's not the right time, or I don't have the money, or I'll do it next week. I know that it will be beneficial and painful all at the same time.

This is menacing to me.

I will have to break apart my life and memories and try to place them back together in a way that uplifts me. It will be even more work than what I've begun here with you. I want to be ready so badly, you have no idea. It's all that I want for myself, to escape the dungeon of my mind and create happy memories untainted by trauma.

Keeping all of this stuff back is preventing me from grasping coherence. I'm wasting my energy by holding onto the past by not acquiescing to courage. I can't take much more of this repetitive train of thought. I can tell that I'm only getting worse by the pit in my stomach and the feeling of my creativity draining. It's holding me down, keeping me where I am, not allowing newness into my life.

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I've spent the majority of my life trying to protect myself, my inner child, trying to shield her from pain and unease. Even when I was a kid, I had to shrink myself in order to not be manipulated and used. Protecting my mind as much as my physical self.

To this day I have not been able to outgrow this past need. I no longer require such thick walls encasing my heart and words and now, they are impenetrable even to me. I wish I could just knock them down in one fell swoop, but I will have to take it apart brick by boring brick. I hope that I will be able to look back on this and know that I have achieved what I was looking for. That I have stability in finances and mindset, that the future does not scare me nearly as much as it used to. That I embrace change with open arms.

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I know that this was a deep one, so take a breather, drink some water, and come back to me when you're ready.

I'll be here.