Tidal Waves

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Often I feel trapped, as if there is nowhere to run, no way to escape the constant chaos in my mind. Most of the time I deal with it just fine, or at least the best I can. Other times… it comes in tidal waves and drowns me.

When my mom died suddenly when I was 17, my entire world fell apart. Any small shred of security I had ever felt in my life was snatched away in an instant. It is true that many people have no idea what to say to those who have experienced great loss. One thing I remember people saying periodically that was particularly hurtful was something along the lines of, “I don’t know how you do it. I wouldn’t be able to survive if I lost my mom.” I wanted to scream at them and tell them how extremely wrong their assumption was. I wanted to tell them that, as much as they may not have wanted to, they most certainly would survive, which is infinitely more painful than the alternative.

Chances are, just because a cherished loved one’s journey has come to an end doesn’t mean our story is over too. Whether or not we like it, whether or not we’re ready, it is the beginning of a new chapter of our lives- life without them.

There I go getting off topic again. I didn’t really mean for this to be another post about losing my mom. Let’s get back to the topic at hand- feeling completely overwhelmed with emotion and hectored by anxiety and self-loathing. Many of us live with these things every day. For whatever reason, those of us who struggle with these issues are constantly telling ourselves that we are inferior. In reality, we are fighters. We are taking metaphorical sucker punches left and right, day in and day out and, more often than not, remain standing. We are not failures. Do not believe the lies you tell yourself. We are hardcore bad asses indeed.

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Boo-Hoo

Ever since I was a child, I have felt completely and totally worthless. I have never been able to see or accept any of my redeeming qualities, personality-wise or physically. I have failed at each and every endeavor on which I have ever embarked. I have never had a real career. I have never had a lasting relationship. I am so far from being a normal, successful person that I’m pretty sure I can’t even see its shore.

Recently I started seeing a counselor again (the excitement just never ends). Throughout our session I mentioned multiple times that my self-loathing is completely out of control… that I’ve never felt like a human being but always like a monster of sorts… that these things are impeding my quality of life. As I was about to leave, she said, “It sounds to me like you just need someone to talk to – a place to come vent.” Sure, lady. Nearly every moment of every day I want to die and have to talk myself out of it, but, yeah, I just need a place to come vent. Sheesh.

A Woman’s Heart

My heart hurts.

Most would probably read that and think something along the lines of, “Oh, that poor thing. She’s all broken up over the demise of her marriage.”

Not to sound calloused at all, but that is simply not the case. I have zero doubt that I am on the right path where that is concerned.

No, my heart aches for entirely unrelated reasons. My heart aches with sorrow. It aches with fear. My heart aches with excitement for what may lie ahead. It aches with regret for what might not.

My heart hurts.

Cherished

All of my life, I have felt inferior. For whatever reason, I have always believed all of the horrible, negative things that some people have said about me instead of believing all of the great things that the people who care about me have always said. I always assumed that the people who didn’t know me and said those cruel things were telling the truth and the people who care about me just didn’t want to hurt my feelings so they lied. At 35 years old, I have finally started to realize that it is the complete opposite. The people who have said hateful things are actually just people who are hurting and hate themselves. The people who love me have been telling the truth all along. I am beautiful. I am smart. I deserve to be cherished… and I will be, even if only by me, myself and I. ❤

Loved

Lincoln Park has never been a favorite band of mine. I never disliked them, just didn’t care much about them either way. Nonetheless, I have been deeply affected by news of the suicide of Chester Bennington.

In one of the articles I read about his death it mentioned that he was good friends with Chris Cornell, whose 53rd birthday it would have been that day. On his friend’s birthday, he ended his life in the exact same way as he had.

Reading that just absolutely crushed me, to imagine the pain that both of those men felt in their lives and especially their final moments. I didn’t realize just how affected by it I was until I brought it up for the um-teenth time and D mentioned that it must have triggered something in me.

If you are hurting and lost, please reach out to someone, anyone. You are wanted. You are loved. Please, do not give up. Keep fighting. ❤

 
National Suicide Prevention Hotline

Call 1-800-273-8255

Available 24 hours everyday

Awoken

According to http://www.addictioncenter.com, addiction replacement, or addiction transfer, is when a new addiction takes the place of a previously addictive behavior to produce the same feeling or high. “Everyone who’s battled an addiction understands the concept: You go from smoking to eating; from drinking to shopping; from sex to chocolate to working. You’re substituting one addiction for another in an attempt to compensate for a perceived ‘lack’- emotionally or psychologically.” – Jeaneane Swanson, The Fix

Addictions can very easily be transferred from one substance or habit to another. This is because individuals who have an addiction aren’t craving a physical substance, they’re craving the fulfillment of an emotional need. It’s fascinating to realize that not all substance abuse is necessarily addiction because there is a difference between addiction and physical dependence.

Lately I’ve begun to realize that I am finding random things to obsess over to get the same emotional response as I get/used to get from eating my favorite foods. I haven’t been eating enough or sleeping much this week. It’s almost as if I’ve been living in a constant adrenaline rush. I guess I’ve just been thinking of all of life’s endless possibilities and feeling so pumped to get out there and do it all. I feel like I’ve been asleep for ages and have finally just awoken. I have a whole lot of catching up to do and I am so ready to get started.

 

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Hold On Tight

Right now I’m reading old journals of mine and figured I’d share a few snippets. This first one isn’t dated. It is pretty much a random list of facts about myself and my life that I apparently felt the need to document for whatever reason. Anyway, I got a kick out of it, so, without further adieu…

“I reveal way too much of myself emotionally.

I often voice things I think my dog is thinking in a Muppet voice.

I feel very self-conscious when I am dressed up or in make-up.

I lived in my own reality as a child.

I tend to live in the past.

I have a hard time leaving the house for more than a couple hours.

I am ridiculously terrified of insects.

I have a very tiny attention span.

I don’t give myself enough credit.

Sometimes I dream of ‘true love’ and wake up missing my dream lover. scan0012 (2)

I secretly wish everyone would be my friend.

 

In high school, I was the worst shot-put thrower EVER.

 

I’m afraid of getting thin.

I’m terrified I may never be a mother.

I change words in songs to make them about my dog.”

 

 

…and, that is it. That is the last entry of that journal. Too funny. It is so wonderfully hilarious to go back and read these, especially the ones from when I was a teen before my mom died. I was so emo (although that wasn’t really even a thing back then) and I was always so devastated about everything all the time.

 

Oooh… This next one even has an illustration taped in there (the excitement just never ends). This one isn’t dated but it’s titled “Creatures of the Night”. creatures_of_the_night____by_peacefulgem

“When I was in high school I had a dream that I was wandering on a snowy mountaintop and I came to a log cabin. I walked around it and there were no doors. Suddenly, light blue fingers with long, blue fingernails slipped between a crack in the logs and then some sort of secret door opened. There stood an incredibly gorgeous, blue-skinned man/creature with long, flowing black hair and wearing a long, black jacket/trench coat. The moment I saw him, I felt a sense of completeness… and at that moment, I transformed into the same sort of creature. My skin turned pale blue and my nails and hair grew. It was as if I’d finally found my soulmate… my fellow creature of the night.
Anyway… the next day at school I drew a picture of my dream-lover and here he is.”

 

…and, last, but not least, this one is from February of 1999…

“Always, I am hurting. I entrust every part of myself to the people I love, and they see it as an opportunity to trample… To ruin anything good that may be in me… to rip out my heart… to use me… throw me away. No one is serious about anything. ANYTHING. There is no forever. I live in a dead world.”

Those last few lines are comedy gold right there. Gotta love the dramatics of teen years. It’d be interesting to go back and tell 16 year old me to chill out and hold on tight because this crazy ride that is life had only just begun.