Mental illness love

I guess there’s no right way to love a person, but there are so many wrong ways; There are so many different ways you can screw everything up. But one of the worst ways is fear.

I still remember the first time I realized I’m not exactly “normal”.. I was 6 years old and we were at a funeral, everyone was crying and the most “normal” reaction would be to cry, even as a child. I know this because my little cousins were crying but I wasn’t. I was completely numb and eventually ended up banging my head against a wall. Of course, I didn’t know this then but I was trying to escape an anxiety attack.

‘A list of 2900 things that can go wrong in one minute’ Is the first sentence that comes to my mind whenever I hear the word “anxiety” and  my brain starts listing them down; It’s almost like a word that activates a bomb in my brain.

But what’s it like to be in love? If you separate people in two groups, one being the group that believes love is rainbows and butterflies.. The other… Would probably be a bunch of people who have been through some awful relationships or been friendzoned a lot.

Then there are people like me,  the middlers swinging from side to side. And it’s not like we lack self-love or anything, but there’s something broken inside us. It’s so hard to explain it to people and even though you feel like the words are right there in your brain, at the tip of your tongue. They perfectly make sense, your voice will speak them out in the perfect waves. But still, you stop them.

We’ve been programmed to believe no one will understand. I’ve been programmed to believe in fear, and my 2900 things. My fears are bigger than me, the bomb in my brain ticks faster than my ability to cut the right wire.

Fears, I’m terrified of opening up, terrified of being forced to speak, terrified of saying the wrong things, terrified of being misunderstood, terrified of fighting/arguing, terrified of people leaving, terrified of pushing people away, terrified of being alone, terrified of being around people for more than 3 hours, terrified of people, terrified of being terrified.

You see, being in love isn’t easy. Nobody ever said it is. But sometimes being in love can be your 2900 things.

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Change

I do believe that one of the worst things ever in life is when you lose a person you love.
A friend, a family member, anyone.
But what’s worse than that is when you lose yourself.
You see, as humans, we change.
Change is inevitable, but when we change, we can’t really know why or how.
We hardly ever notice it til we start doing something we never did, or someone points it out.
Being in your skin but feeling like it’s not yours, moving around in your body but feeling like a ghost.
Not recognizing yourself, tough.
I’ve been pretending to be something that I am not.. Well, something I used to be, but I’m not anymore.
It’s not that hard, really. Being talkative and, well, me.
What’s hard is the fact I can’t figure out how to run my own life anymore. When was the last time I washed my hair? Should I wash it now? It doesn’t look dirty..
Sometimes I even think I’m going insane, or losing my memory.
Forgetting who I am, where I am. What’s my name again?
That one person that makes me feel beyond perfection,
Is the only person who knows how messed up I am.
I won’t talk about it unless it’s important,
I won’t discuss it unless it can be solved.
But why can’t I speak?
Why won’t the words rush out when I need them most?
Why can’t I fight for the one thing I need to keep like I fight for everything I believe in?
Because I’ve changed. I’m not the same.
I can’t go back to how I used to be
I can’t talk about what’s bothering me
Change is inevitable, I will remember my name.

Be better

Being a person who’s very friendly and brave may never give out the fact that person is depressed or might have anxiety attacks.
This has always been a struggle for me to explain to my friends, as I always just kept it to myself.
I would go through an anxiety attack in silence; I just sit there and not move or speak for probably hours, just trying to calm down.
It’s not something that I like to talk about and for quite a while I was kind off in denial, partly because just thinking that I might be depressed or have anxiety gave me anxiety. But when I sat down with myself I realized that I actually did suffer from depression. I didn’t get out of my room for 2 months, I didn’t eat or speak to anyone. I just went to school and came back home. I pushed all my friends away and I just pretty much gave up on life. I can’t say my mom helped me out of it, she pretty much forced me to toughen up, I guess it was tough love?
But I never did anything out of my comfort zone. Sure, I’m brave as fuck, I love to try new things. But I have my limitations. There are so many things that even the thought of them freaks me out, some of which have been repeatedly mentioned in all my diaries ’cause I always feel like “Oh maybe I can do this next year” but I never do.
But this year I have gotten out of my comfort zone, going to college ALONE and talking to strangers and befriending people. And also I did some grown up things that I never thought I will someday be able to do.
So if anyone ever tells you you can’t overcome your fears, they’re lying to you. And if they tell you it will get better, they’re also lying. Because it can only get better if you allow it to. Don’t lock yourself up in your room. Don’t push people away because you will regret it. And you never know who you might be hurting by shutting off.