Moving on sometimes involves literally moving somewhere…in my case, to my old home town.
I found a beautiful flat right in the town center. It’s not too big and not to small and it was important for me that it had two rooms, not just one….because I hate people sitting on my bed when they visit me, or everything smelling of food when I cook something.
I can not put into words how much this new beginning means to me. It’s exactly what all my therapist have been telling me to do for all these years. It was a huge step but now that it’s done, I also feel that it’s been a necessary one.
Although I haven’t been feeling my best lately and I’m quite sick and depressed most of the time, I do think that it’s nice not having to justify for the way you’re feeling. I can feel shitty as long as I want and I can stay in bed all day if I have to, without someone asking stupid questions….it’s strangely liberating 😉
For the last two weeks I have been so busy and even though the moving process was very hard and quite stressful, I felt really well. I hadn’t been feeling so good in a long time. Although it lasted only for a couple of days, it really raised my spirits a bit. But unfortunately those days are the exception rather than the rule 😦
Besides, I’m scared to fail again. I’m not in good shape, neither physically nor mentally…how am I supposed to survive nursing school? My best friend told me to be more optimistic, but honestly…I just see myself failing over and over again…having mental breakdowns and screwing up my life forever. So far I have neither graduated nor finished my apprenticeship…and nursing school is not going to get any easier. No one will pay any attention to whether I feel good or not…if you don’t work hard enough or are sick too often you just get fired…and that’s that. And then I will really have NOTHING.
I would be forced to go back to live with my parents without any completed training or education and as if that wasn’t enough, my parents would lose all the money they payed for my furniture and the flat.
Right now I’m just scared…I really want to live like a normal person and live a normal and happy life but I can’t…my body won’t let me. I really don’t know how to be healthy and normal. And most of all I think that I don’t even know how to be happy. I just lost my ability to feel anything even remotely happiness-related I think.
Wow…now that’s a thing to tell the psychiatrist that I have to go to next week for the first time. I don’t think that he can possibly help me but it’s worth a try….even though I already know that I can’t take any meds due to my cardiac afflictions and my risk for thrombosis.
After spending the last couple of months in a consistent downward spiral of health problems, anxiety and depression I finally decided that I’ve had enough.
In my last post I said that I had come to the decision to take some time off, since I had the feeling that my body and mind continued to shut down, slowly but surely. I just couldn’t take it any longer and, for the first time, was taking decisions for myself and not for my family or friends. And it felt soooo good.
And it felt even better because everybody was supporting me….except for my parents (which didn’t surprise me at all)….and that gave me the strength to continue down the path I’d chosen for myself.
Recently I’ve more and more grown to hate my apprenticeship and school…like many young people I had to face the fact that I had obviously chosen the wrong job for myself. Yes, I would have loved to become a dietian….and only a dietian….and not some sort of underpaid, downgraded cook’s maid. It turned out to be, not the job I had wanted and worked my ass off for this entire time, but a job I wouldn’t be able to live by without asking for some extra money from the welfare agency.
…it sucks you in and you can’t do anything about it.
You struggle, you beg, you wriggle like an eel, trying to escape…but you can’t.
That’s exactly how I’m feeling right now.
I always thought I’d be stronger…strong enough to keep depression in check but apparently I’m not.
I’m now officially back into therapy, due to my panic attacks and the increasingly depressive state I’ve been in recently. So much has been going on lately, that I don’t have the strength to deal with…problems at school and at home but above all things, problems with my own darn mind.
I’d love to blog more and comment on everyone’s posts but depression is like this really heavy burden you’re carrying around on your shoulders and that’s the driving force behind your actions and thoughts, so that you’re not really deciding how you want to live your life anymore…depression just controls everything.
I really hope that therapy will have a positive effect on my condition rather quickly, because I have the final exams coming up in June and can’t afford to suffer a mental breakdown half way through it.
And although I’ve tried to keep my current condition to myself and to just “function”, especially at school, our supervisor must’ve noticed my mental health problems somehow, because a couple of weeks ago she came up to me and asked me what was wrong. She had noticed my drastic weight loss and that I kept isolating myself from the class. I started wailing like a 5-year-old as soon as I realized that their was no use trying to avoid the elephant in the room. That’s currently happening to me quite a lot, that can keep myself together as long as no one starts asking questions. I just want to be left alone. I want to be normal and not the “crazy, mentally deranged girl who always needs her special treatment”.
But being back in therapy is getting a special treatment and that’s enough for me to say that I failed…not only myself, but also my family and friends. I just want to lead a normal life someday…even it seems like an unreachable dream right now. But that’s what keeps me going. That, and D (“my person“).
Everybody’s gotta live up to certain social roles in life, right?
We’re are daughters, sons, (girl/boy)friends, mothers, sisters, students and so much more…life is like a theater play or a movie, we act, we lie, we wear certain masks and costumes to disguise who we really are even if it’s just to be liked by people, to be accepted…or even to make sure, that we’re, at least, not being hated.
And sometimes this play’s comic, sometimes tragic and most of the time, it’s both.
When it comes to me…I’ve been playing quite a few roles lately, that I’m not really happy with, and even less proud of.
One of the roles that I never thought I’d ever have is…”The Hoe”…as I like to call it. Other people would probably just consider me a “lover”, an “affaire” or whatever terms you can come up with to describe the fact that I slept with a man who’s in a relationship….not just once, but multiple times, over the last couple of months.
I got there after his housemate went to work and left early in the morning before he was coming back from his night shift….no one was allowed to see me….they could tell someone, especially his girlfriend, of course he never told me that, but I knew it right from the beginning, that he was struggling pretty badly to keep the whole thing secret.
I’m not really happy with myself at the moment.
Although I guess when other people look at me they don’t really know what my damn problem is. School has been going quite well recently and I’m definitely going to be there next year. Yes I made it and I worked my ass off to get this far. The thing is, that’s what others think….my parents, my friends. Of course, I’m happy too, but again…not really. I’m not satisfied with myself. I’m always looking at myself in the mirror going “You could have done better! You could’ve worked harder. Why did your grades average out at 2.2 (B) and not 1.8….or like you friend’s at 1.4 (A)? You.Are.Not.Good.Enough. Period!”
Momentarily, it’s like every single aspect of my life is just there to show me, that I have a serious problem. If I had to name said problem it’d probably be: “Girl, you have serious self-esteem issues and everyone around you enjoys the fact that you let them shove it right back down your throat every time you think you could finally get somewhere in life.”
Yeah…that’s probably it.
And what’s even worse about the whole situation is, that I can’t even tell if it’s me…or if I’m not, in fact, just simply surrounded by assholes ö.Ö I guess it’s a bit of both.
Here I am, writing with shaky hands, drinking Whiskey right out of the bottle. It’s my birthday.
What a beautiful day. Happy carcass jubilee to meeeeeeee…..yeah!
My room smells of flowers and the new perfume I bought myself today, my hair smells of smoke and my breath smells of booze and the garlic pesto I ate today, because I knew that no one would come around to say hi (thought about drinking the perfume first, at least that would have made the 70 bucks I spent on it kinda well-invested…but it smells too good to actually drink it. So I guess If I’m not happy and funny, I can at least smell happy and funny….just to be the perfect illusion everyone expects) Continue reading
I’m back. I’m tired. Done in…time to move on.
Don’t get me wrong, the last couple of days I’ve been sleeping more, than I probably have in the last 3 months. No insomnia, no tachycardia, no nausea…
I haven’t felt so happy and relaxed in a long time…and nevertheless I’m tired.
Sometimes, although you’re happy, in love and you feel as if your entire world is lying there, right beside you in your arms…you just gotta take a decision, even though it’s tough and can break your heart.
Sometimes, you just have to accept that it’s time to move on….not just for you, but also for the person you love.