Reaching internal happiness is incredibly difficult. I find the phenomena of normality both disturbing yet intriguing. I wonder how one feels whom considers themselves ‘normal.’ To be comfortable in ones own skin, or to feel cohesive among other individuals of society.
Anxiety and depression have always limited my life, not in a pitiful way. Maintaining relationships is a battle. Everyday tasks, so little as making small talk at a coffee shop with the barista, seem daunting. Anyone know what a good nights sleep feels like without help from sleep inducing medicine?
Now and then I will be so lucky to experience these temporary bursts of positivity, which ultimately convince me that I am productive and unstoppable. I’ve learned not to remain attached, however, because it will not be long before I slip back into the clouds.
Living with a mental illness is conventionally not normal, per se, but arguably common. And people who do not suffer from what I do, can certainly struggle with what I do. So to be normal, that feels..?
I felt the water against my golden skin. Looking up, I closed my eyes seeing nothing but red from the blazing sun. Hearing the wind blow, the birds chirp; I was at peace.
Everything that is beautiful is natural. Everything that is natural, is beautiful.
Feeling unwelcome in a relationship is such an indescribable feeling. You are together with this person because you fell in love with them. You wakeup wishing to share the small moments. You check your phone to see his/her name pop up. They cause this serge of happiness just by looking at you and smiling.
Then suddenly, you’re condemned for such acts. Desiring to talk is no longer encouraged, in fact it seems as though less communication would make them happier altogether. Looking at your phone seems useless, considering it hasn’t rang in hours. Moments you’d once share without a thought, become locked inside of you.
Essentially, you’ve transitioned into a burden. They no longer crave what they once did; what you still do. Your greatest downfall has always been your heart. “Too big for your own good,” as they say. You feel confused and idiotic for thinking this person could love all of you. Did you actually think someone could love you? You’re sitting here going over the files in your head of everything they’ve ever said and done. Pathetic.
They’re out living their life relieved that they haven’t heard from you. Every time you pick up your phone, that pang of emptiness reminds you that you’re no longer welcome on the other end. And the worst part?
The worst part is that the voice that is telling me all of this, is my own.
This entire year I have worked rigoursly in all aspects of my life and lately I just cannot seem to pull it together. I see friends with jobs and internships and I’m just here idly floating, undecided of the path I wish to take in life, and so I fill my days with thoughts and writing and planning out adventures. I’ve always dreamed of just going out and making a difference, and it seems like now I’m just stuck, stagnant in this hole of feeling ashamed. I can see it in my parents, wondering what I’m doing with my life.
Yes, I long for days feeling free and sitting with nature, having the sun hit my bare skin and taking pictures I will cherish. But thats the thing about anxiety. It makes you feel guilty for wanting those things when you don’t have a plan for he future. Living in the moment becomes stressful and nobody understands. I just go day by day bottled up acting like everything is fine when I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown.
I saw a rainbow today after a sun shower and all I can think is, will things change from here? People say I’m young and that things will work themselves out but I’m having a hard time believing them.