Yesterday was a bad day. I'm not proud of the mindset I slipped into. Things felt desolate, lonely, and utterly depressing. Unfortunately, I was not strong enough to overcome it this time; I relapsed. I'm trying not to judge myself too harshly for it. I stopped before it could become much worse, more akin to what it usually is. But still, it hurts that I was taken back to that place and felt powerless to stop it.
I truly believed that there was no other way. I tried to fill my mind with creative projects, watching Youtube, spending time with my cat, but nothing could distract me enough. I ended up back in a place I promised I'd never find myself again. I think it's been about two months since the last relapse. And before then it had been close to half a year. I wish I could say that I won't do it again, but I guess I'll only know once I'm there again. It might be tonight, it could be next week. So I need to be prepared this time, armed with tools to help me fight the urge.
It is now clear to me that there are many days of work ahead of me. Instead of ignoring this ever happened, I need to start asking myself questions.
Why did I feel the need to do this, what forces drove me? Is there another way to quell this desire? What preventative measures can I take so that this never happens again?
I suppose I did it because everything in my life is coming to a point. I will be jobless soon, likely having to seek out unemployment so that I can still pay my bills. But I haven't changed my address with the government, or checked if my records of employment have been documented, and the idea of doing those things makes me want to curl up and away from the responsibility. I have no friends to rely on, no one to talk me off the cliff. It's just me by myself, trying to fight this battle alone. I don't want to burden my mom, and I'm not close anymore with my sister, so they will never know what happened last night.
It all seems abysmal, currently, like there's no end in sight. My mental state is in utter disaster, which is reflected onto my physical space. I have no energy for chores or basic self-care. The idea of folding my laundry, vacuuming, or organizing my desk drains me just thinking about it.
I guess this is where tough love comes in. I have to do these things in order to start feeling better. If I continue to wallow, nothing will get better and I will remain exactly as I am, which is nothing helpful. The only way out is through, so I must encourage myself to complete these tasks. I know that I will be better for it, but it's always the starting that's the hardest. Mustering up the will to care enough about myself takes a lot of energy. It's because most of the time I don't believe it. When I'm in an okay mental state, I have the ability to murmur words of encouragement to myself. I try to be forgiving of my depressed thoughts and reroute them to something more positive. But it almost feels like I'm tricking myself, because I don't fully believe that I do care about myself. But I suppose I do, otherwise I wouldn't be here right now. There's something keeping me here: fear, cowardice, pride; I'm not sure which one. It could be a combination, all of them urging me to continue despite my misery.
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It's hard to see what I did to myself. When I get dressed in the morning, undressed at night, trips to the washroom, it darkens my sight. I get transported back to that time, the feelings of unease and begging for it to go away. The feelings of self-hatred and negativity telling me how weak I am. I don't think that anyone could say something more unkind than what I already say to myself. And I'm not proud of it. I'm my biggest motivator, but also my worst enemy. It's a constant push and pull, a sway of emotions that never quite knows where to land.
I know it's not good to isolate myself, I've learned that time and again. But I don't think that I feel comfortable opening up to anyone currently in my life. I used to talk to an old friend about it, but she's no longer in my life. We shared our pain because we both went through the same experiences. It was a safe space where I knew I would never be judged, but approached with compassion and a gentle urging to do better. That's what I need right now, and I miss her greatly. However, I will have to find that strength within myself now.
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I thought I'd be honest with you all about this. I try very hard to make this a motivational space, but I can't always uphold this mindset, I hope you'll forgive me. I couldn't bear lying to you, pretending that everything is going right and I'm flourishing in my self-growth. Because with growth comes pain comes unravelling comes disaster. It's all part of the process and not all of it is part of the highlight reel.
I hope you know that it's okay to fall down. Take your time to recuperate then stand tall on both feet. Scrape yourself off the ground if you must and do your best to not reside in that place longer than necessary. You will heal, with time and with nurturing. Learn to love yourself, as I am desperately trying, so that you have stability to fall back on.
If you need someone to listen, to truly hear you, I will be here, ready to support. This is a safe space and I would never judge you.
Please be kind to yourself. You deserve nothing less.
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