I fucking hate mental illness!!

I hate mental illness, period. I often glorify mental illness, period. It’s easier for myself to think about the positive side of mental illness, and in reality, I know mental illness has no positive side. In fact, all this time I’ve convinced myself that I’ve learnt something from it and that it helped me become a better person. Fuck that! The truth is, it is the mental illness that has created the negative side of life in the first place. The low self-esteem, the trust issues, the general + social anxiety I don’t even notice often anymore even though its a 500kg weight tied around my abdomen, it just stays hidden because “I’m used to it”!

“IM USED TO IT!” FOR FUCK SAKE! Do I even need to comment on this too frequently used: the phrase that it is now carved into my tongue, and just slips out from my lips, and often fingers too much? It’s really this simple: if you don’t have a clue what that phrase means then you really have no reason to be reading this post, period.

You can probably imagine the frustrated tone, seeping through my words, bursting from my soul reading this, that’s because I’m simply exhausted with the burden that a mental illness is, nevermind having 2: depression and anxiety – 2 mental illnesses that pose as the polar opposite of each other.

Mental illness stops me from doing physical exercise because it sucks up all the motivation inside of me and just leaves it with blank emptiness and tiredness. But then t also causes me to look in the mirror and want to cry because I can’t have a 6 pack, and everybody else has a 6 pack – therefore I’m different, and therefore people will dislike me – therefore I need to exercise – but I can because I have no motivation – so I look in the mirror again. It’s a loop that never stops and gets worse every single day.

Mental illness is getting 5 hours of sleep on a night, feeling tired, getting 8 hours, 9 hours, 12 hours, 17 hours, 79 hours sleep. AND FEELING PHYSICALLY, EMOTIONALLY and MENTALLY TIRED 24/FUCkiNG7. PERIOD!

It’s because of this you go to school every day exhausted, not being able to do given tasks because you’re too exhausted, lacking motivation, not understanding the work, but that gets you annoyed all over again. Depression hits its work, you beat yourself up inside and just squash it up into a ball in the pit of your stomach, and it sits there for a while. It is hating yourself and feeling tired, because of something that is beyond your control.

Its anxiety telling you-you’re going to fail 24/7. It’s anxiety telling you your friends all hate you and feel sorry for you. That every teacher in school hates you for something you don’t even know. It’s the universe screaming at you every second of the day for existing. In reality, it’s all just a lie, a  figure of your imagination, and it all happens the next day.

Because of all this for 5 hours a day you get to the end of the day, restless and wanting to break down in your bed – your safe space, sleep or burst into to tears at best, SH at worst. And at night you go to bed 4 hours early so you can get to sleep on time to get 8 hours of sleep, but your brain has its way and keeps you awake for 6 hours and you only get 5 hours sleep. Thank you anxiety, and depression. Thank you because now it’s an infinite loop that can continue forever if it doesn’t get worse that is. If it doesn’t patronize you so much, you end up finally giving up – be it life, or your education, or you’re future.

I’d like to give a great round of appalause to mental illness and an ever bigger Thank you, much apreciated. Love you lots MI, definitely couldn’t live without you!!!!

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Just going to clear a few things up. – Trigger Warning

First if you’re reading this then please watch the video. There’s no other way to put it other than that way. https://youtu.be/tKaQd6-tlUw

Contrary to popular belief, suicide is not a spur of the moment decision. The process of thought can take anytime between days and even years. For a person to suddenly decide to commit is the general image behind suicide that society has imposed on us, never once do we mention the hours of thought put behind the act, a person puts into it. Nor do we mention how said person usually comes up with alternative reliefs before the end game and the continuous balance of positives and negatives they weigh up. Suicide isn’t all hearts and roses, its bloodshed and tears. 

The truth is I have thoughts of killing myself at least 5 times a day – on a good one. And on a bad day, even more. I’m not scared of dying, I’m mostly bored if not tired of living a half life. I’m smarter than that however, and it’s just thoughts. But I know I’m strong enough to do so, and I lack no remorse for it, it’s too easy to be honest. There’s tutorials on nooses,I could hang myself from a tree, I could slit my wrists easiest of them all actually! There’s also bleach, I could jump from somewhere or drown. 

I’m bored of the life I live. People compare me to Hannah Baker and ask me if I did it, who would be my reasons. In actual fact I probably wouldn’t leave a note behind, because you can’t write a suicide note to yourself, or to life even. I don’t feel anything mostly, I can’t cry because I lack the feelings so I laugh instead and pretend I’m fine, I make jokes and every depressed word that comes out my mouth is a plea for help.

Last week I went missing, people only care when you could be dead. But no I say sorting things but it’s normal, I could kill myself tomorrow and everybody would love me for 3 days and then never mention my name again.

Before I finish I don’t want sympathy, none at all just recognition that I’m not okay. And I definitely don’t want any are you okay. 

Dark Place

I’m in a dark place and I’m struggling, struggling to even get out of bed, struggling to work through my day. I’ve lost myself and certainly my spirit, I need help. I have no direction and my soul is empty, just crying out for help. I NEED some motivation, some joy in the sheltered and shadowed life I lead, I’m depressed, genuinely this time, even though it has been genuine for the past 3/4 years But I feel it for real now – I’m not sad, nor am I happy, I’m not feeling self-conscious or ashamed, just completely empty. I want all of it to just get up and walk out the door, leave forever but I know that’s not exactly possible.

You see the thing is with a mental illness, there’s no cure and even worse – there’s no way for sure that other people can understand and identify the fact you have one because it’s all up there inside your head where nobody else can go. Therefore it’s harder for other people to comprehend or even sympathize. I have work to do, but I can’t because I will have a sudden strong surge of motivation that leads me out of my bed and towards my desk, I turn my computer on and open my coursework; I start to do my coursework and sit there for an hour but I’ve only really written about 10-30 words and even then it’s gibberish. I see the reality of it and realize it’s never going to be perfect like I need it to, and like a cycle, I’m back in my bed again, physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. I lay there alone, in broad daylight with my curtains open, just hoping and wishing for a change, it doesn’t come and neither does sleep (yet), I turn on my tablet and play some music which I just rest and cry to.

My next point, my life’s a mess and even technology hates me; my phones just randomly stopped working and as sad as it sounds it was my best friend. I haven’t a clue how it happened but slowly it’s just stopped charging and now it won’t charge at all, but then it’s probably just an analogy of my life story, isn’t it? How in the beginning I was full of battery and charge, then overtime all the shit and happiness just got pushed into to me, like how you would charge a phone and leave it on for too long and overcharge the battery. Then over time, the battery starts to break because of the overuse, and suddenly one day it’s broke and surprise surprise the phones dead.

What happens after that, or before the final date actually? With life, you cannot just go to the shops and buy a new one, or even a new spirit like you would a new charger or battery. You first have to identify the issue, which may as well be impossible with a mental illness, then there’s the issue when you have multiple and even so they aren’t obvious, apart from depression and anxiety. It’s worse, however, because depression and anxiety are polar opposites; depression has you wanting, to not worry about everything and just lay in bed all day. On the other hand, anxiety has you worrying about everything and you can’t find a balance.

It’s awful that society has put a label on us that states on girls have depression and anxiety. That only girl’s self-harm and commit. That’s only because society tells men they aren’t allowed to be anything but masculine, brave, bold and independent. men aren’t allowed to feel and are strictly forbidden from asking for help. Even more so there are stereotypes restricting us every day, if you’re from an estate you’re not going to get anywhere in life because your poor and you don’t deserve respect If you’re fat you’re not good enough, and how society only cares if you’re rich, skinny, popular, pretty or dead. How if man has a different personality e.g. he’s feminine a label is placed on him (gay), how heterosexual males can put a label on their friendships but how LGBTQ can not create their own labels (double standards I know!) All we think about in this day and age is comparisons, and we only accept the rich and more wealthy. We look up to celebrities like they’re a godsend and we need to be like them. All we care about is fancy clothes and expensive cars; footballers get paid millions to kick a ball about, whilst they’re thousands if not millions of doctors out there saving lives every day, trying their best and having to tell parents their children have died, but nope we’ve decided to underpay them. Soldiers fighting for their lives everyday, and families always thinking of the worst but again we underpay them. Am I crazy for thinking this, but isn’t this world just a backward piece of shit or what?