Tag Archive: anxiety


…Cracks…

I wanted to give up

I wanted to give up so bad,

I expected you

to be so mad,

I thought that you’ll leave

when I need you to stay,

Please please please

don’t ever go away,

I know that I’m broken

and I feel lost and alone,

and I know that’s partly my fault

And I’m wholly to blame,

The gray talks to me

pulling me into its game,

And I go

I fucking keep going,

Rational thinking

its knowing,

But I give in I’m so weak

can’t do this,

I push but it takes

the piss,

I want to

give in,

Keep drowning

within,

I keep saying I got this

I’m good,

But those are my lies

sugar-coated misunderstood,

Sugar-coated crystalline candy

love heart lies,

Because in my head I’m saying

goodbyes,

I’m slinking further

away,

I’m giving up more

every day,

But deep down

I need you to stay,

Please don’t leave though I push

you away,

I keep walking closer

closer to the edge,

It beckons and it calls me

step up to the ledge,

And I try and I fight

but I’m exhausted inside,

And I’m so damn sorry I

told you I was okay because I lied,

I want to give in,

But giving in

is a sin,

Life is so precious

and I feel so much shame,

My head is a mess

and I know I’m to blame,

I feel I’m not worthy

I should walk out life’s door,

But I’m not worth the time put a smile on

get up off the floor,

Please don’t leave

say that you’ll stay,

I’m cold with emotions

and push everyone away,

I lock myself off I

lock myself down,

And I know its my fault

I keep the gray in so I drown,

I drown quietly so

that you’ll never know,

Because I’m so ashamed of me I’m bad tainted

please don’t leave don’t go…

.x.

…shadows…

I see them the shadows

as they flit across the room,

Wreaking havoc in crevices

forboding luminescence in the gloom,

In the pained darkness in their stupor

their screams,

Slowly cracks forming

as they rip at the seams,

They echo and bounce

thrown back against the gray,

They slink and they linger

always looking to find a way,

They softly purr

feather like against the window pane,

They screech at denile of entry

they howl like mournful rain,

They creep and they scurry

and they try to blend in,

From the corners you’ll catch them

see them try to hide like a sin,

They won’t leave

me alone,

They’ve made my mind

their home…x.

Hope is a “cap de pula”

“Hi! How are you?”

Those words… those words mean I have to bend the truth. I have to find a way to tell you what you what to hear. That I’m ok. That I’m doing good. Because you don’t really want to hear that I’m not. Again. So I show you that I’m good and I spend the day with a stupid smile and a happy positive vibe for you to see. And then later? I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted from the pretence. The 1 woman show that I’ve put on for everyone to see. From where I’ve worked so hard to have everyone thinking that I’m ok and that I’ve not failed again. And then despite feeling exhausted? I’m awake at night clawing at my mind like I claw at my skin. And the anxiety builds and the self doubt builds and the darkness wins a little more and I smile for everyone to see and I’m ok. And I fail. All I do is fail.

It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m supposed to have been able to kick it into touch by now. I’m supposed to have snapped out of it and stopped moping and whatever other words I’ve heard people say… the past is in the past, I’m not a child anymore… grow up and get on with it. I’ve heard it all. But some scars run deep. They fracture you and physically break something deep inside. Some broken children heal and others don’t. The ones that don’t turn into broken adults. And it’s not their fault they’re broken. It’s not my fault I’m broken. But to me? To me it’s my fault. I don’t want to be a failure. I don’t want to disappoint. So I’m ok. But I’m not… I’m tired of the games that my mind plays. I want out of it. I want to be rid of the thoughts, the memories, the flashbacks, but most of all? I want to be rid of the nightmares. The things I see when I sleep. Or the terror I feel on the odd occasion I go to the shop and hear someone with that tone of voice. I want to stop being afraid of everything and everyone. Sounds stupid? Yep I know. But it’s the truth. Looking back, I never used to be like this. This bad I mean. It started getting worse about 7 years ago. I don’t know what the catalyst was. But now I question every thing I do, think, and say. I judge myself so harshly that I don’t leave any of myself left for anyone else to judge. It’s said that we are our own worst critic. I rip myself apart before anyone else gets chance to realise just what a failure I am. Because if others found out that I was less? Then they would stay away. People hurt you. No one gets in therefore they can’t hurt me. Only I can hurt me.

Honestly? I’m tired of the whirlwind that is me. That is my mind. My thoughts. My feelings. My emotions… I’m tired of me. I’m tired of fake smiling. I want so desperately to give up and yet, there’s this tiny stupidly annoying little thing inside of me… this tiny little spark… its called hope. And as much as I loathe myself? Hope keeps shining. Hope refuses to give up. Hope keeps me going…

…sigh…

Depression/darkness/anxiety/whatever you wish to call it… they are strong and powerful things. But hope? That tiny little sparkling glimmer of hope? It’s the most powerful thing there is.

So… I’m going through bad days(again), My poems on here have stopped(again). But? I’ll be posting soon because? Hope doesn’t let me quit life.

Rollercoaster…

Emotions are a strange thing. I mean we need them they create a balance(supposedly), they allow us to express our feelings *picks up my mask* emotions are important(builds a wall around them). But… What happens when a person’s emotions become too unpredictable? What happens when they yoyo and become “wobbly” ? *calls in the demolition crew*

Imagine you’re on a rollercoaster. There are climbs, some to dizzying heights. There are swooping lows, some going so deep and down hill so fast that they are terrifying. There are loops and spins and thrills and anticipation and anxiety… then there are the parts where you’re just going in a straight line and you can’t see whats in front is it going to be a little dip? A little bounce? Or a sharp fall, like you’re free falling off the face of the earth? The straight becomes scary as you’ve no idea what’s going to happen. Anxiety builds in the pit of your stomach. Now imagine that the rollercoaster is in the dark with flashing lights and sounds and smells and memories blasted at you randomly, think of your biggest fears and worse nightmares, the depth defying soul crush despair and sadness and fear, but throw in happiness and laughter and light and warmth. Its all coming at you. Now add the fact the rollercoaster is going backwards so you just can’t see what’s going to happen next. Feel sick yet? Welcome to how my emotions are affecting me.

I feel like I’m currently walking a tightrope and I’m wobbly… I’m on that straight bit on the rollercoaster and I’m scared. I don’t want to drop back into the depths because that seems to be the only place I go this year. I don’t get enough happy climbs. I know what you’re going say… if I want to be happy? I need to think happy. I need to change what’s making me unhappy. I’m telling you that it’s just not that simple and I can hear you saying that it is… its not. And I really want to explain why its not that simple but you’ll never understand and if I opened myself up enough to explain why? Then I’m letting you in and I can’t let people in because people hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt. I’ve been hurt so many times. I’d rather keep everyone out and not be hurt. I know what you’re thinking… That’s a sad way to be. But it’s not. It’s not because my fear of having that fragile child within me hurt again outweighs everything. To the outside world I’ve got my shit together, I’m just about always smiling. I’m quiet. But people never get in. No one gets near that fragile glass center that is me. Eccedentesiast. That’s me.

Here is different. Here on this blog, this space… its my safe place. Here there are no walls and I write. The most fragile form of me is here in the posts on my space. I crumble and build. Here I show I can give the love I so desperately crave back. Here I can rip my veins open and let my mind, heart and soul pour out. Here it doesn’t matter if I’m held together with broken string some days and good intentions others. Because Here I am safe.

So… here in my little safe place I have decided to make a nest of blankets and pillows and soft stuffs. You’re most welcome to come and get comfy. If you’re having a bad day? Come snuggle in. Don’t worry if you don’t want to talk. I don’t mind because I understand what bad days are like. If you just want a safe place to sleep? Here’s an extra pillow because I know how difficult sleep can be. If you need someone to listen? I’m here… oh… you don’t want to share with a female. That’s ok! See that guy with his head buried in a book? He’s like you. I’m sure he’ll listen. The point is that this right here? We don’t judge here. We won’t look at you with pity. We understand what it’s like to crumble and build ourselves. We understand the darkness and desolation. We understand the need for peace and quiet(and extra soft stuffs to get comfy in).

Now I’ve left you my thoughts… I’m going to leave you some songs. These I’ve just taken from my list that has played while I’ve written. I’ll try to give YouTube links for all of them. If there’s one thing I love? It’s music so I’m always open to a new song and I listen to every genre(not that this list is going to be varied). Here goes…

There you go… 12 songs in the order they played on my playlist as I wrote/stared off into space…

Sending you all a hug.x.

407

406

Mental health… everyone seems to be talking about it just lately. It’s on the news, in adverts, all over the Web. You’ll find something about it in every place you can think of. We’re encouraged to talk about. It’s on the rise in all age groups. All ethnicities and it doesn’t care where or how you live. We’re encouraged to talk about it.

I don’t want to talk about it. Or more specifically, I don’t want to admit just how bad things have got. Last tear I could still wing it. Last year yeah, it was bad. It’s an endless yoyo a constant battle but I could function.

This year has been worse… this year I got talked out of commiting suicide, I had everything ready, no going back(thanks M). Now I think about suicide at least once a week. My brain thinks about the perfect way to do it with no comebacks but so that I’m not in anyone’s way or so that I make a mess(like going by train or taking a dive off something). I’m telling you, planning a murder is easier, and I planned one!(for a story!!). Every for every step I take forward? I either take as many or more backwards. This year I’m tired of fighting the darkness. I’m 41years old and ok I definitely don’t act it(adulting is a trap!), shit… 41years old and my whole life has been spent fighting something I can’t even see.

This year its changed too… I dread going out. Just the thought makes my skin crawl. And I’m trying so hard to still do it. Do 1 thing every day that scares you. And people? I’ve never really done people. People are the scariest things on earth. But now? I’d rather do anything than have to be around or near people. People are NOT safe. I guess if your reading this? You mind jumped to covid. Nope your wrong. When I say not safe? I mean because people hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt any more. My thinking is that it’s best to just give up on people but that’s where it’s tricky because naturally I want to help others. …sigh… I’m tired of getting hurt. I’m tired of being proved right that if you let someone in? They’ll hurt you. Me? Even when I’m completely falling apart? I will never ask for help. That’s not my way. I could be crumbling and still crawl on and you won’t know.

Why am I writing? I don’t even know at this point… I just am. My rules for my blog come back to me every time I hit the WordPress app icon on my phone… always be truthful. This space is yours. Your 1 safe place. A place no one can judge you or if they do? Who cares? It’s not your neighbour(either of them), no one that follows you lives on your street. This is as the blog says, an empty space. A space for you to write your mind out. So here I am. Having spent the last few days having episodes of crying so hard I’m throwing up and walking around with the headache from hell and muscle cramps(probably from the crying,throwing up and lack of liquid intake). But right here right now I’ve got a cup of chamomile tea which is cold and I’ve still only drunk half despite going and zapping it twice. Here I am still outwardly holding my shit together and hiding how I feel from the entire house. Why? Because in this house I have no choice, I have to be the strong one.

Right now I despise myself. I know that I’m a let down hiding in plain sight. I have judged myself and know that I am less. I know that this world really would be a better place if I had never been brought into this world. But at the same Time? There’s this ridiculously stupid dumb part of me that says that these feelings are because of the darkness and why do I let it win? I don’t let it win. I just don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I need a fucking hug and for someone to tell and to mean it when they say they are there for me and that I mean something to them. I need to feel loved. But I need to believe its true. The only one I ever believe cares and is there for me is the darkness. Depression gives the tightest hugs and I just want a hug. Depression will always stand beside me. In a fucked up way? It never leaves and I that there? That is what I need. I need someone who won’t leave because everybody leaves because in my fears I push them all away and let nobody in. But Depression doesn’t listen. It’s always here and envelopes me in its hugs washing me in darkness.

I know I have a problem. But admitting and knowing are two very different things.

…sigh… for today I give up…

Eccedentesiast Messages.

“Hi! How’re you?”

I have bad days more than good. I’ve fallen apart so much this year that I’m running out of string and glue to hold myself together. I’ve shut everyone out and I mean EVERYONE. Ease don’t take it personally that I don’t talk anymore but I got hurt bad this year because I finally believed in someone and let my guard down a little. 5 years. 5 years I’d known them and everyone said that they were a user and no good for me. They turned on me badly when I was at a very low point and I considered ending my life. So now they’re out of my life but it’s caused a knock on effect and now I don’t want anyone near me. I don’t want to talk to people. My confidence is gone. I just want to stay home and never see people again. People hurt you. I say it all the time and I’m always told that no. No they don’t. It’s just a few bad ones that take advantage. But YES. Yes they do. Time has proved it again and again. So I am quiet. I hate myself. I hardly sleep. My anxiety has presented itself in a new way now… I get the shakes when it’s pushed too high. That’s made me really self conscious. I keep telling myself that I’ll get over it. But when? But I’ll get over it.

“Hi! How’re you? I hope you’re keeping well? Massive hugs.x.x.”

Writing to a song…

Written to a Nickelback song. About suicide and depression because my brain took 8 words of the song and decided thats the way its going.

~…No freedom…~

Dark body

darker sky,

One quick deep cut

say goodbye,

Blood slips down

White sheets turn red,

Soaking into

this once clean bed,

Breathing shallower

barely there,

Empty pill bottle beside you

your almost there,

A ghost walking hallways

in this damn house,

You’ve screamed so loudly

yet your silent like a mouse,

There’s so much noise

inside your head,

You crave the silence

better off dead,

Depression anxiety

you’re alone spiralling down,

Everythings got to much

its making you drown,

Vision is fuzzy

your fading almost time,

Heart gives in to much struggle

flatline,

And your here

stood beside your bed,

Look down at glassy eyes

empty vessel gone dead,

Now you’ll get peace

you smile and say,

But its not gonna happen

things aren’t going your way,

The screaming is louder

there’s nowhere to hide,

The darkness more vivid

everythings on the slide,

You thought you be free

you were so wrong,

You’re a ghost in this houses hallways

and the nightmares know your song…x.

If I could hug you? I would.

I read your words and wanted to reach out but I can’t. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. Because I’ve always envied you. You’ve always seemed to me to have your shit together. To be strong. I feel like a sinner because I sinned in judging your book by its cover and I should know better than that seeing as I’m usually only hanging on by a couple of threads. I should know better because I’ve perfected my mask for the world so no one sees just how broken I am. So that only a couple of people know I was very close to taking my life earlier this year. I should know better to judge I’m sorry. I’m sorry because its you. And damn reading your words, your posts… it hit me hard. I judged bad. Because I understood every word thats in those posts and I cried for you. Not in a bad way but because I care.

I wanted to ring you, message you or maybe even email you but if I rang? I’d have to talk and I don’t do talking. You might say how’s you? And I’d have to lie and say I’m good and push further into me. Blocking myself off more. You might message something back and then what do I do? Do I reply? If I replied you might ring. If I didn’t reply you might ring. My anxiety building higher as I thought about this a million different ways pushing myself towards a meltdown by over thinking but I can’t help it. I could email you but say what? How do I put it into words that I understand and your not alone and I care and miss you and I’m afraid to and your family and I love you. I can’t. I got stuck in my own anxieties and then got afraid. I failed. So I did what I know… I pulled further inside myself and built another layer around me.

And now I’m here again… Reading again. I want to give you a hug but this stupid touch thing has got so much worse. But at the same time its also weird… there are safe people. I can talk to safe people, maybe hug a couple of them you’re safe because I know your family. Because we spent years growing up together. Because I know you. Because I used to shout at you to get up for school. Because you used to take the piss out of the annoying brat that was me but at the same time? You got it first that I couldn’t cope with the disruption which led to me bawling my eyes out into a tin of dog food. Because you were a know-it-all but I looked up to you and wanted to be as fearless as you were(I’m never going to admit that to you though!). So your a safe person. But I’m still afraid. I’m lucky if I talk to 1 person a month now face to face that doesn’t live in this house. People are scary. Going out of the house is scary. I rarely go out anymore. But you’re safe because its you. Love you masses.x.x.

So here i am… still wondering how or even if I can message you. I guess its more im afraid of you replying. Gosh I’m such an awkward bitch… sigh… I don’t know what to do… in head? We go for a walk where there are no people(because I can’t have another panic attack because I don’t do people). We just walk and random talk but I need to get out my head where I gloss over all the bad. Stupid head… I should go to sleep.

For Jay. Love you and care for you always.x.

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